Harry Potter and Dumbledore's Army
by Cat Calls
Summary: In his 6th year, Harry has to come to grips with his lot in life. He's awoken during the summer by horrific visions, forcing him to realize that he must train himself not just physically but mentally as well.
1. Acting The Hero

Disclaimer: As much as I really really really wish this material was mine, all characters and such are property of JK Rowling and co. She really rocks doesn't she? 

Thanks to: Loony Laura for her tireless enthusiasm, even when I tell her we're going to read Harry Potter again.

**Harry Potter and Dumbledore's Army**

**Chapter 1 -**

**Acting The Hero**

Sirius Black was falling slowly through the veil of death while Harry screamed at him in terror. Harry's voice cracked as the sobs choked him.

"You'll be safe at home Sirius!" He cried, trying to escape the clutches of his one time Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher. Harry struggled against Lupin, and screamed again as the veil fluttered once, and Sirius Black disappeared. An evil cackle rent the air, the voice of Sirius' own cousin, Bellatrix, who had sent the red stream of light which had knocked Sirius off his feet. Harry felt hot tears of guilt, shame and anger slide across his cheeks.

The images rewound and replayed in his head. This time, Harry said "No, Sirius! Don't leave me!" Still, Remus Lupin's arms encircled Harry's waist and held him back in safety and desperation. The evil witch still laughed. This time she also asked in a singsong baby voice, _"Did you love him, bitty Potter?"_ Harry cried out in full voice for his lost godfather.

A door slammed from somewhere behind Harry, and he spun to face the intruders.

"Ah! I see you have brought a gift. Thaddeus, did he give you difficulty?"

One of the shadows, who had a thin almost invisible line of blood coming from his cheek, answered confidently. "No, My lord."

"No matter." He spoke to them condescendingly in a high and creaking voice that would have made the bravest individual shudder with fear. As it was, the man that the two cloaked shadows brought forth was near to collapsing with terror.

"When we arrived, he was the only one there," the second shadow said. "We thought it best not to attack directly, but to capture this one, and he may help us find the rest. We left Avery to spy on the house, just in case they all come back."

"Good. I knew that lot would be the most difficult. Send out the other three teams. Those families are significantly smaller, and one's even a mudblood. That should be fun for you, Platt. You may join that team." Harry smiled a cruel smile, and stared at the man with blood on his cheek, who had an anticipatory gleam in his eyes. "Leave him. I wish to interrogate him."

"As you wish, my lord." The two shadows muttered with synchronized nods of approval. They had no doubt that breaking this new prisioner would be a minor task for the dark Lord. They left him with his pleasure.

"What do you think of my father's house?" Harry asked darkly. "It's not something I would have originally thought of as useful, as it's so... Muggle." Harry scowled at this as though he had just smelled something revolting. The man who had been brought in whimpered and fell to his knees.

"Are you even listening to me Muggle-lover? Or do you need a reminder?" He pointed his wand at the man's head. _"Tympanus"_ He muttered, and all of a sudden the man grabbed at his ears. "Listen to me, and listen closely." Harry hissed threateningly. The man groaned at the overload of sound. "I want to know where your family is, and what they're planning against me!"

The man groaned, and shut his eyes tight against the pain of the sound.

"Ah yes. I thought you should know that this curse is one of my favorites for torture. It makes sounds increase tenfold no matter if it be a whisper or a groan, it is like hearing someone screaming right next to your head. A footstep," Harry stamped his foot on the floor loudly, and the man leapt and shuddered, "can sound like cannonfire."

Harry had no doubt that the man was already in pain despite the lack of whimpers and groans. In fact the silence told him that the pain was effective.

"If this curse is done often and powerfully enough, it breaks the ability of the ears to distinguish sound. Soon enough you will be completely deaf." He watched with amusement as the man's arms and legs twitched.

_"Finite Tympanum."_ Harry muttered, and the man began to whimper again. "Now tell me, muggle-lover, where is your family."

The man lowered his hands and took a deep breath. Despite his pain and despite his terror, he looked Harry directly in the eyes as he spoke. "I'll never tell you anything."

_"Crucio."_ Harry yelled, and the man's screams filled the chamber and the corridor outside.

For a moment, Harry felt ill. He clutched at his stomach and released the curse. The man lay there panting in pain. Harry's dizziness did not abate. He felt like two separate people... distinctly unwhole. There were two different patterns of emotions inside him. One was angry and pleasured and vengeful and frustrated. The other only had one clear emotion, fear. He concentrated hard on separating the two from each other, and thought he might have succeeded. He felt mostly the fear side of himself, but he could feel the Dark Lord's thoughts and knew he was as yet an undetected presence in Voldemort's mind.

Harry lifted his hand and stared at it intently. The fingers were white and pale and long. They reminded him of white spiders. They didn't feel like they should, and he dropped them abruptly to his sides, the one gripping tight to a thin wand. When he looked down, he remembered what the Dark Lord had been doing all this time. He remembered what he had heard, who he was looking at. _Who he was._

A crumpled heap of black robe lay twitching before him. The shock of red hair lay half covered with the shivering arm.

"Oh no..." He could hear two voices coming out of him one was high pitched and screechy, the other low and soft. "Oh no, Percy..." Harry pushed his emotions further apart. He knew the fear felt healthy and good, and the anger was black and vengeful. He took the fear into himself, and pushed the anger away. It took almost all of the mental power he possessed, but he was able to speak. "Percy, it's Harry. I'm going to get help right now. Just... hold him off for as long as possible. He doesn't know what's happened to him yet, don't let him know. Please just hold out a little longer."

Percy, who was unable to form a response simply nodded, his eyes wide and searching.

"I'll help you Percy, I promise."

Percy turned his head back into the bloody braided rug beneath his body, and began to weep.

Harry let his emotions close back in over him again and he felt Voldemort take control once more. He knew he should wake himself up quickly, but he tried drifting to the surface of the dream instead of snapping awake as was his initial instinct. He was able to stay in the dream long enough to hear Voldemort saying in a cackle _"You thought you could put a confundus charm on the dark lord? Weak wandless magic does not impress me Muggle-lover. You will pay for your insolence. Crucio."_

And Percy's screams broke through the surface of the dream.

Harry sat up in bed with sheets tangled about his torso and chilling sweat soaking slowly into the mattress beneath him. He felt hot tears and beads of cold sweat on his face and the crook of his back, but he wasted no time wiping them off. He had the feeling they would only reappear in the next few crucial minutes. He leapt from the bed tearing at the twisted sheets as he ran to his trunk, which he still hadn't bothered to completely unpack since his arrival at number four Privet Drive two weeks ago.

Hedwig, his snowy owl, was out hunting, and any notes she delivered ran the risk of being intercepted. Besides, it would take too long. All Harry would be able to do under those circumstances would be to sit around waiting for the most painful twinge in his scar that said Percy was dead. Harry didn't want to feel that.

Harry tore the trunk open and began searching through the piles of clothes and junk until he felt a stabbing pain in his palm, and knew he had found what he was searching for. Paying no attention to the splinters of glass which tore through his hands, he collected the shards of mirror and laid them haphazardly on the floor beside him. He searched through the bottom of the trunk for any missing pieces, but wasn't able to see well enough in the dark to know for sure that he had gotten them all.

He paused. Dare he risk underage magic? He was only going on sixteen in two weeks. Seventeen was the accepted limit to be of age for free magic. Harry quickly dismissed any excuse. He _needed_ to do this. He had to get help. A man's life was at stake now. Briefly one of Harry's best friends' voices sounded clearly in his head.

_"Don't you think you've got a bit of a... Saving people thing?" _Harry couldn't deny that at the time Hermione had been completely correct in her assessment of him. Hadn't he already gotten Sirius killed by trying to run to his rescue?

Another well loved voice fell easily into his mind.

_"You're wasting time trying to act the hero."_

He ignored Ron's voice too as he pulled out his wand, and pointed it into the trunk.

_"Lumos,"_ he quickly whispered. He was able to find two more shards of mirror before he gave the rest up for lost. He now pointed his wand at the pile of glass, and muttered _"Reparo."_ The glass settled itself neatly back together to form an almost unblemished surface. Little nicks and bumps were visibly absent, but the main part of the hand mirror was solid.

Harry held the mirror up to his face, and briefly stared at the lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead. He could feel the scar pulsating and twinging with pain, and he felt the unrelated stirrings of frustration which transmitted though the scar - his magical link to the Darkest wizard seen in over a thousand years.

What Harry wouldn't give to be able to use this mirror for its intended purpose. He imagined calling out to Sirius, and asking him to help. But Sirius was gone, and no magic mirror would show his face again. No magic in the world would bring him back.

Harry shook his head. This was no time to be thinking about his godfather.

"Remus Lupin." Harry called, and waited. He was acting now under the assumption that Sirius would have let his best friend know about the mirror, and would have bequeathed it to him upon the event of his death.

"Remus Lupin!" Harry called louder, and he heard the snores of his uncle Vernon in the room next door halt, and the snuffling sounds of a man unjustly awakened.

He began calling out names of any adult wizards with the ability to apparate. Apparition was another thing he had been denied as an underage Wizard, and Harry knew he would have no chance alone against Voldemort without the ability, no matter how strong his 'saving people' instinct. "Remus Lupin! Albus Dumbledore! Minerva McGonagall! Arthur Weasley! Molly Weasley! Fred Weasley! George Weasley! Nymphadora Tonks!..."

Harry trailed off as a sleepy face appeared in the reflection of the mirror that most definitely wasn't Harry's.

"What do you want George?" Fred Weasley yawned widely without looking into the mirror.

Harry should have known that the Weasley twins would own two-way mirrors. Of course it all made so much sense. They were notorious pranksters and probably used the mirrors to plan tricks.

"I'm not George! This is Harry!" He dropped his voice back down to a whisper in the hopes that uncle Vernon would return to his bed.

"Harry? Why are you talking to me? Why at this hour? Where'd you get a two-way mirror?" Fred asked blurrily. He seemed to take in Harry's pale scared face though because his next question was "What's happened?"

"Fred, are you at headquarters right now?" Harry rushed.

"Yes... why?" Fred asked.

"Is your entire family there now?"

"Yes, well... all but Percy, the git." Fred wrinkled up his nose in distaste. Harry's stomach plummeted.

"Fred, get Dumbledore or someone who can help me rescue... someone. Get them right now. We have no time to waste. I need to speak with Dumbledore as soon as possible."

"Did you have another vision?" Fred blanched and stared intently at Harry, who nodded. "Who was it?" Fred asked.

Harry knew Fred wasn't trying to be frustrating right now, it was just that the last true vision Harry'd had was one of Voldemort as a snake attacking Fred's father, Arthur. Now Harry knew he would have to give the same information to Fred again, but it was his about his brother instead of his father.

"Fred, it's Percy."

Fred's reflection disappeared with a yelp and a blur.

Harry gave him as much time as possible to wake up someone else before he tried calling back out to him.

"Fred Weasley!" he waited a moment, then called again. "Fred Weasley!

Harry could hear Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia next door grumbling loudly to each other about that "idiot boy, can't keep his voice down in his damned dreams."

"Fred Weasley!" He called again.

"All right all right, keep your stockings on. I'm here. What else do you need?"

"Fred, you can't let your family leave Headquarters. They're in danger. You are too, but I have a feeling that it's mostly Ron and Ginny they want." Something else very alarming clicked into place with a thud in Harry's brain.

"And Hermione, Luna and Neville should have some people sent to them as well just to make sure they're all right. I have a feeling that it's all those who were in the Department of Mysteries when... That night. Please Fred don't leave the house now."

"Harry?" The wizened face of Harry's headmaster replaced that of Fred's in the mirror. Albus Dumbledore had always been old, but now he looked at least two hundred with waxy skin and with the usual twinkle in his bright blue eyes noticeably absent.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir, Voldemort has got a hold of Percy and he's torturing him. They're at the Riddle Mansion. You need to somehow get him back!"

"Harry," Dumbledore looked intently into Harry's eyes, "are you certain that this was a true vision?"

Harry hesitated. "To be honest sir, no. But how could I live with myself if I didn't at least find out? I promised Percy I would save him!"

Dumbledore looked at Harry, surprised. "You spoke to him?"

Harry started. He hadn't remembered that he had done that. He looked right into his headmaster's eyes so he could see the truth in them. "Yes. I'm not sure how, sir, but I was able to control Voldemort's movements for a few seconds. He thought that Percy was trying to perform a wandless confundus charm on him. I was able to tell Percy that I was going for help, and that he had to just hold him off a bit longer. Please sir, I promised!" Harry let the tears of frustration leak from the corner of his eyes, and Dumbledore could see the desperation with which Harry wrung his hands.

"I'll get together a team, and go out there now."

"Sir..."

"Yes?"

"The Weasley's can't go to help. There's someone watching their house, and I got the feeling that if another one of them shows up there, he wouldn't hesitate to kill them. They aren't even the only ones in danger."

"Who else?" he asked.

Harry took a deep breath. "I believe that Hermione, Neville, and Luna were also threatened. I think he wants to retaliate for the department of mysteries thing."

"We'll send out people to their houses too."

"Sir... Don't let anyone get hurt please." Harry said worriedly. "I don't want any more deaths... And let me know what happens." he pleaded.

The headmaster nodded. "They will be as safe as we can make them." And his face blurred in the mirror.

Harry didn't sleep that night, and in lieu of trying to sit still, he started packing his trunk. If he was wrong, and one of the teams of death eaters that Voldemort had mentioned was heading his way, then he had better get ready to be out of there as soon as possible. Either that or he would be expelled from school, and living here would be pointless anyhow.

He couldn't help but hope that if he weren't expelled, then maybe this would be the last straw, and that someone would come to get him and take him back to the wizarding world in the morning. He didn't want to stay with his muggle aunt and uncle any longer.

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had been better to him this year in that they didn't bother talking to him at all anymore. Last summer he and Dudley Dursley, Harry's cousin had been attacked by two of the Dementors of Azkaban. These were creatures so foul that anyone in the close vicinity would feel all happiness sucked out of him. Of course, muggles couldn't see them at all, so Dudley had blamed Harry for putting a spell on him. Vernon and Petunia didn't care if it had been Harry or not, and they ignored him anyway as if he had.

_'Not that a dementor would honestly make that much difference to my current state of mind.'_ Harry thought to himself dolefully. Harry had been distant and miserable since he'd lost Sirius, and being with people who didn't care or understand had been nearly intolerable. The way he'd dealt with his pain and isolation thus far was by being listless and despondent whenever he had time to himself, or to work his way into a frenzy if he was commanded to do chores.

If the vision he had seen of Percy was false, then Voldemort was trying to trick him into showing up again. As much as he might end up regretting sending Dumbledore, he knew that Dumbledore would have a much stronger chance against him. Harry just wasn't ready.

_Never again,_ Harry thought to himself_, will I be stupidly rushing into a battle I know nothing about._


	2. A Welcome Invitation

Disclaimer: JK put a lot of thought into her work. Far be it for me to take any credit that rightly belongs to her.

**Chapter Two - **

**A Welcome Invitation**

Two loud cracks sounded in the backyard of number four Privet Drive at exactly Six-thirty AM the next morning. Harry went running, clutching his wand tightly in his bloody right hand as he went.

At five o'clock, just as the sun was rising, he'd received an owl carrying a message from the ministry of magic, berating him for his use of underage magic. They hadn't tried to expell him this time as they had last summer, but they still made it clear that the Reparo charm was an unacceptable use of magic for possible defence, and they expected him to give them a good reason for performing the task. Harry had dismissed the letter, knowing that the charm had been worth the risk. Even if it hadn't been a true vision, he still needed to tell someone about it. He would have felt much worse if he hadn't notified someone.

"What happened?" He asked as soon as he was certain that he knew who it was that had apparated in his aunt and uncle's backyard.

Professors Dumbledore and Lupin turned to see Harry striding determinedly across the lawn towards them.

Lupin had a strange look in his eyes that said if he hadn't known Harry so well, he might have been slightly afraid of him.

Harry knew that his black hair was more mussed than usual, which was certainly saying something, since he always looked as if he'd been in a tornado. His lightning bolt shaped scar stood out red and raw against pale white skin. The emerald eyes that were an exact replica of Harry's mother's were dimmed from their usual brightness. Harry's face clearly showed his agitation, but it wasn't the face that Lupin was looking at. It was the stance. Harry walked tall and muscular now with determined and heavy strides. His blood encrusted hands swung heavy by his sides, his right one clutching tightly to his wand.

"That looks like the 'someone is about to pay for what they've done,' walk. I saw your father do that one quite often." Lupin smiled as Harry drew nearer, and professor Dumbledore chuckled. Harry was too concerned to follow the humour.

It was nearly a man who stood before him now, and Lupin looked slightly alarmed by the sudden change in his former student. He knew that Sirius' death had hit him rather hard, but to see this...he silently took hold of Harry's hands, and magicked the blood away and cleaned the cuts. His hands still looked beat up, but at least they looked like they had been attended to.

Professor Dumbledore was speaking. "Percy Weasley is in St. Mungo's hospital. He is not well, and will be remaining indefinitely in the critical care ward."

Harry's posture slumped, and his legs couldn't hold him any longer, he toppled to the grass, and let his face rest in his mangled hands.

"I didn't get to you in time..." he mumbled, and sighed. "Mrs. Weasley is going to hate me." His eyes closed in absolute defeat.

"I doubt it." Remus responded. "She's pretty broken up about the whole thing, but I believe she'll thank you for sending people after him."

"What about everyone else? Was anyone hurt?" Harry looked up in fear.

"Miss. Tonks sprained her ankle when she was hit with a jelly legs jinx, and Mr. Weasley got caught by a bit of a rib-cracker, but everyone else is fine."

Harry jumped to his feet. "WHAT?" he yelled "YOU LET MR.WEASLEY GO OUT AFTER I TOLD YOU THAT THE DEATH EATERS WERE AFTER THEM?"

Dumbledore held out his hands in a calming gesture. "I could not stop him from helping." When Harry made to argue, he waved him aside. "He insisted that even if he could not be allowed on the team to rescue Percy, he would have to be doing something. His mind needed occupying, so we sent him to help Hermione Granger and her family sneak out of their house. They encountered some resistance, but everyone made it out safely."

Harry took a deep breath, and tamped down the anger inside him. He had promised himself that he would stay reasonable this year. After his anger and frustration had given him nothing but trouble and odd looks. "Everyone is all right then? Other than Percy?"

"Fit as fiddles." Answered Remus Lupin assuredly.

"Harry, I wanted to let you know that I have a proposal for you." Dumbledore announced.

Harry looked at him, surprised. Hadn't he just yelled at the man? Why would he want to give Harry anything?

"What sort of proposal sir?" He asked.

Dumbledore lifted a hand to escort the two wizards into the house. "I believe this should be said at another time in another place. Suffice it to say, that part of my suggestion is to remove you from these premises."

Harry looked up to see the ever watchful nose of his horse-faced Aunt Petunia slip away from the back curtains. When they arrived indoors, she was already off preparing breakfast in the kitchen. Her pink bathrobe tied tightly around her middle.

"Petunia," said Dumbledore, "We will be taking Harry away for the rest of the summer."

She nodded without looking up, and Harry could tell she was nervous to have two more of 'his kind' in her house. "Good." And Harry had absolutely no doubt that she meant it. It was one of the only things she'd said regarding his presence all summer.

Harry looked up at Remus suddenly. "Will I be taken to headquarters?"

Remus nodded, his eyes darting out the windows.

Harry's face fell slightly. "I have a few details about that that I need to straighten out before we go." He took a breath, and continued. "Firstly," he held up one finger, "I will not be used as some damn radar to detect Voldemort for you." Petunia's ear cocked towards him, knowing she'd heard the name 'Voldemort' before. There were very few muggles who ever had, and fewer still who understood the dangers associated with his name.

"Second," Harry continued, holding up another finger, "I absolutely refuse to live in the same place as that horrible house-elf."

"Harry," Dumbledore interrupted. "Kreacher has killed himself as he now has no family to serve, and it is not normally in the nature of most house-elves to denigrate themselves by being given clothes and freedom."

Harry nodded, and he took on a fierce stature. "Third, I will never rest until I see those elf-heads, the tapestry, and that horrible shrieking woman gone. They do not hold happy memories, and I'll burn the damn house down if I must, to get rid of them."

Professor Lupin began to laugh.

Dumbledore smirked. "I believe you should ask Remus about those last three items. It seemed that he was of the same mind as you."

Harry looked at his former teacher, wide eyed. "What did you do?" He whispered.

"Lets just say that they let me have the run of the house this last full moon."

Petunia's ears twitched.

"They didn't! Wasn't it a little dangerous?" Harry asked, already laughing to himself.

Remus looked up at Harry's aunt and smiled slightly sinisterly. He was about to give out his most painful secret, and he couldn't wait to see the response. "With the right wards, everything is all right. Besides, you have no idea how much fun a full-grown werewolf can have with a shrunken house-elf head."

The peals of laughter rang though the house as Petunia Dursley fled white-faced from the kitchen clutching at her stomach. Harry felt a little bad that this was the normal response his Professor got when he mentioned his curse, but since it had elicited the response he'd wanted, they were comfortably able to laugh about it.

"Shall we pick up your trunk and get going then?" Dumbledore asked as he turned to lead the way up the stairs to Harry's room.

"Sir." Harry interupted. "Sir, I wanted to apologize." Harry began to wring his hands nervously. "I shouldn't have yelled at you a minute ago, just as I had no right to yell at you and break your things back in June. I'm sorry. Forgive me?" The apology had cost him something, since he was still a little angry at Dumbledore for keeping vital information from him. The only reason he had just asked for forgiveness was that he knew it was part of his plan to be reasonable.

Dumbledore looked as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "Harry, to be honest I'm rather glad you did yell at me. Had you not, I may have become so large in the head to believe myself the king of the universe by now. It has been so long that I had a good yelling at that I had forgotten a good many things about the process. I do by the way appreciate being humbled every so often. However a lowering of the decibel level may sometimes be in order." He looked deeply into Harry's eyes. "On the other hand, I do accept your apology for breaking all of those items in my office. I may have had too many of them, but they were still items I appreciated."

Their arrival at number twelve Grimmauld Place was painful in many ways for Harry. The first, being that he found it quite uncomfortable to travel by portkey. The strange jerk behind his navel, then rush of wind and colour always made him feel a bit like a worm on a hook. It also frustrated him to no end that the old man in their company landed without so much of a twinge, and he, the young strapping teen ended up landing hard on his bottom. It was unfair to say the least, that he should be offered help up by someone who looked more than five times his age.

The other painful thing about his first glimpse of Grimmauld Place was the depression that seemed to wash over him at the sight of his Godfather's old house. Sirius had never liked the place, and had gratefully handed it over to the Order to be used as headquarters. Today the building was shrouded in an eerie fog, and the effect it had on Harry's already tender emotions was bruising.

"Are you coming Harry?" Lupin said quietly. He was standing near the front stoop, holding Harry's firebolt broomstick, as Dumbledore disappeared through the front door carrying Hedwig's empty cage.

Harry picked up his trunk once more, and started forward, tamping down the almost insatiable urge he suddenly had to throw something heavy at the house. "How do you do it?" he asked Lupin quietly. "Seeing this place now makes me feel like it was just yesterday that Sirius..." Harry trailed off.

Lupin took the other side of Harry's trunk, and began to help him up the stairs.

"Harry, I'm afraid that I can't feel completely upset about losing Sirius." He said honestly, closing the door quietly behind them. "The truth of the matter is, that I thought I'd lost Sirius a long time ago. And then it was under much darker conditions. This time, even though I know he's not coming back... At least I know he isn't a traitor. I know he died honourably."

Harry nodded, and lowered the trunk to the floor. Somehow, hearing this perspective on Sirius' death made him feel quite a lot better. It was bittersweet now, this homecoming.

Lupin came over to Harry, and put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "I know he didn't have the easiest time of it here."

Harry snorted. "That's an understatement."

Lupin continued. "But, believe it or not, just knowing that you were there to need him made him feel very special. It made him happy."

Harry felt the tears gather in his eyes. He pulled off his glasses, and wiped them away viciously with the back of his hand.

The next thing he knew, Lupin was holding him tight, rubbing his back as he cried, the pain of his loss stabbing deeply into his heart. Had he looked a bit closer, he might have noticed the shiny dampness of his former teacher's world-weary face.

They grouped together in the kitchen.

Harry was surprised by how many people were here. He knew that Hermione, Neville, Luna, and all of their families had needed to escape, but somehow, he hadn't thought about where they would _go._ Evidently headquarters was now acting as a home for displaced persons as well.

None of the Weasley's, Longbottom's or Hermione were there, as he'd been told that they were all out at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries visiting with Percy and Mr. Weasley.

Hermione's parents were there, however, and they seemed to be wearing perpetually alarmed expressions on their faces and clutching Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, who was wriggling and meowing in frustration. They were the only two muggles in a strange dark house among a plethora of unfamiliar witches and wizards, and Harry wondered for a moment what they were thinking, suddenly being thrust into the centre of everyday Wizarding life.

They were the only two people currently absent from the gathering in the kitchen. Obviously Neville's grandmother and Luna Lovegood's father had both been inducted into the order though, as they were both present. It was obvious that Muggles were not allowed in the Order, no matter the status of their offspring.

The other witches and wizards were mostly people that Harry had met either from his short stay last Christmas, or else they were teachers from Harry's school. Both professors McGonagall and to Harry's disgust, Snape were in attendance. Nymphadora Tonks, and Kingsley Shacklebolt, two Aurors that Harry knew quite well, were sitting opposite them.

"Wotcher Tonks." Harry greeted the young witch. "I heard you hurt your ankle. I hope it's all right."

She smiled back pleasantly. "Your young friend Neville sure packs a wallop with his jelly legs jinx."

They heard Mrs. Longbottom sigh happily at this announcement. Her grandson's ability to make ministry Aurors legs turn to gelatin must have been something she thought of proudly.

Mundungus Fletcher slumped in one chair, his ginger hair matted to his head from the fog outside, his pockets suspiciously lumpy. To Harry's enormous pleasure, Rubeus Hagrid sat trying, and failing miserably, to be inconspicuous on two of the chairs at the end of the table.

Harry walked over and gave him as big a hug as a half-giant could get.

"Good ter see yeh Harry." He grumbled pleasantly.

Harry didn't get much more of a chance to greet anyone, as Dumbledore then walked in and both he and Harry took the last seats. "As you all know," began Dumbledore, "we had a rather alarming occurrence last night, and we are here to clarify a few things with you all. First of all, I wanted to make it clear that what I am about to propose comes with quite a bit of reluctance on my part, and to be very honest, I would not like any of the Weasley's to know of it yet. So as I speak now I must have everyone's word that they will let me take them aside on my own to put it to them in a slightly different light." He looked around at each of the witches and wizards to receive their nods of agreement in turn. When he turned to Harry, he added, "That is to include the younger generation, I assure you." Harry nodded. "As well obviously, I would like no one outside the order to hear of it." He seemed to be speaking only to Harry again, so he nodded once more.

"My proposal is this. I would like to invite Harry Potter here to join our ranks in the Order of the Phoenix."

Harry gaped at his headmaster. No underage wizard had ever been asked to join as of yet, and Harry now understood Dumbledore's reluctance to tell the Weasleys. Molly Weasley was certainly not going to appreciate this.

"Not," Dumbledore added quickly over the rumble of opposition, which had arisen, "of course in any sort of active role." He looked quickly at the rest of the gathering. "I have a specific mission in mind for young Mister Potter that has nothing to do with active service and fighting. But I feel that I must explain a little more behind my decision." He took a deep breath.

"I have discovered, to my cost, that Mister Potter and his friends seem to have become a detective agency in their own right. No matter how much we don't tell them, they seem to find out anyhow. Sometimes I end up hearing important things from them of which most of _us_ were unaware." He looked at Harry with the twinkle back in his eyes, and winked. Harry knew he meant no disrespect.

"This past year, I had been keeping many things from young Harry here, and the overload of secrets I kept, created a misunderstanding between us and made Harry believe that someone he cared for was in danger. I do not wish to continue with this path, and I believe that the more Harry knows about his situation, and about his connection with Voldemort, the better for all of us."

Most of the people in the room wincedat the name, but seemed to settle down a bit at this, but Harry could feel the glare of professor Snape's eyes as they bore obvious hatred into his skin.

"You all know however, and I must make this clear to you Harry, that the Order is still a very secretive place to be, and not everyone knows everyone else's business." He gave Harry a poignant look at this, and Harry looked nervously down at the table. "You must understand the importance of having secrets in an organization such as this, and I implore you not to discuss it with anyone not currently in this room."

Harry looked into the old man's eyes, and nodded once more.

"Do you accept my invitation then, Harry?"

Harry didn't see why he wouldn't. Given the opportunity to find answers to all the questions he'd ever had about Voldemort wasn't something he had to think on all that long.

"I accept." He said quietly.

"Good." Dumbledore smiled. "Now, last year, if I remember correctly, I had you studying occlumency. Have you been practicing?"

Harry blushed red, and looked fleetingly at Snape. "To be honest, sir, I wasn't feeling all that well when I practiced emptying my mind of all emotions, so I went to the muggle library and picked up a few books about meditation. They said something in one of the books about not being empty of emotions, but only analyzing and calming the ones you do have. I've been doing that for the last two weeks, and it seems to be helping. My scar is hurting a lot less, and I just feel altogether better about it. I know it's not exactly what professor Snape said to do, but..."

Professor Snape looked stunned for a moment. "Headmaster do you realize..."

"Yes, Severus."

"And have you known this for long?" he asked, his pale skin emphasized by his greasy black hair hanging about his face.

"I have only come to this conclusion just last night." Dumbledore answered.

"I should have known," Snape continued, "after what happened when he did the shield charm." He said, scowling at Harry. Harry remembered having used that charm in his occlumency lessons at one point, and it had made Snape's attempt to break into Harry's mind bounce back on him. Suddenly it had been Harry breaking into Snape's mind. As much as he was pleased that Snape was grudgingly impressed, he wondered why this was pertinent.

"Excuse me, but what did I do?" Harry looked confusedly between the two.

"Harry," said Dumbledore calmly. "All this time I thought that you were in danger of being possessed by Voldemort. I thought he would take advantage of your connection to either harm you, or make you harm others. I realized this was an incorrect assumption when he tried to possess you in the department of mysteries, although I couldn't have been certain of why it was impossible."

"He wasn't able to possess me, you mean. Not for long, anyhow." Harry said, hearing a few people gasp and Professor McGonagall muttering, "My word!"

"Yes. Even with you staring him straight in the eye, he could not possess you."

"What does that mean? Why am I still seeing his thoughts in my dreams and catching his moods and stuff?"

"I am suggesting, as is professor Snape, that it is you who is unintentionally possessing Voldemort."

Harry stared at the Headmaster while they waited for more sounds of surprise and disbelief to die down.

"What makes you think that sir?" he asked quietly. His mind swirling with confusion and a bit of fear.

"In the most recent 'vision', you were able to make Voldemort move and say things that he would not ordinarily have said. You knew that he did not remember having said those things. Those reasons and your chosen medium for practice -meditation- are all pointing towards the possibility that things are rather reversed from what we thought they would be. This ability you seem to have, is probably natural Legilimency."

"I don't want to act as a Voldemort radar for the Order!" Harry reiterated his statement from earlier in an angry tone.

"I wasn't suggesting that you do. In fact, I would like you to be able to control it, since Voldemort has proven that he has ways of altering his own memories to suit his needs, and I would not ask you to use this ability for our purposes. Practicing control as far as I am concerned would include both legilimency and occlumency. I don't want you to see these images at all if we can avoid it. I have another task for you which I think you will find much more acceptable."

Harry breathed deeply. "And what is that, sir?"

"I'm afraid we are going to be in a bit of a pickle this year as far as Hogwarts is concerned. The only person I was able to convince to fill the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher is, I'm afraid, sorely lacking when it comes to practical experience." He looked deeply regretful at this. "She certainly knows the basics, but some of the darker aspects of fighting with real wizards are impossible for her to understand."

Harry tore his eyes away from the scowling Snape. The greasy man had always wanted the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, but for some reason, Dumbledore wouldn't give the spot to him. Besides the fact that Harry wasn't sure he wanted his least favorite professor teaching his favorite subject.

Although now Harry thought he knew what Dumbledore was asking him to do.

"I would like for you to continue the DA." Dumbledore stated abruptly, confirming Harry's thoughts. "This may not be beneficial to us at the moment, but as a teacher, I can understand the importance of passing on the values of fighting and defense skills to a younger generation." He suddenly looked very sad. "We have no way of knowing how long this war against Voldemort is going to last. I do not wish to leave this world knowing I've failed to provide protection for anyone, young or old. And above all that means self-defense."

Sounds of surprise and disbelief warred across the table. Harry clearly heard professor McGonagall exclaim, "It's not like you're going to drop dead Albus!" and professor Lupin said something like, "You shouldn't have to worry about something like that!"

"Nonetheless," Dumbledore continued, "the education of our youngest witches and wizards is very important, and from what I've heard, Harry here makes quite a good teacher."

The room was silent.

"Did Hermione take the jinx off of that list of hers?" Harry asked in the middle of the silence, wrinkling up his nose at the question, hoping he wouldn't have the word 'sneak' marked across his forehead.

"I'm afraid she had to. I received a rather loud letter of complaint from the mother of one Marietta Edgecombe, saying that her daughter was suffering needlessly from an unknown jinx. I must admit that I admired the power and thought behind it, but I still had to ask her to remove it."

"All right, I can talk about it then. It's not as if everyone didn't know about it anyhow."

"Too true." Dumbledore nodded knowingly. "It is a good way to discern whom to trust to put a jinx like that on a simple piece of paper. But it's not enough to keep others from knowing your business. You must also watch those around you for eavesdropping."

Harry blushed. That should have been something on his mind at the time he, Ron and Hermione had organized the group. Harry remembered his mind being rather more occupied with a certain Ravenclaw seeker. Cho Chang herself had been a bit more interested in what Harry could tell her about the death of her former boyfriend Cedric. It was, he promised himself, the last time he would be taken by a pretty face.

"Hagrid," Dumbledore turned to the half-giant at the end of the table. "You have always been available to support Harry and his friends. I ask that you continue to do so, and I will make you aware of anything they need to know so you can pass it on to them quietly. If you were to come waltzing into my office every few days, or leaving the school, people might become suspicious, so I cannot allow you to sit in on meetings throughout the school year."

Harry nodded with understanding.

"One more thing is that I have personally gotten permission from Minister Fudge and Madam Bones-" Harry remembered her as the witch currently in charge of the Wizengamot. The wizarding law society, "- to allow you, and you alone to use underage defensive magic, beginning the day you turn sixteen."

Harry's heart felt weightless. This was everything he'd needed for so long coming to light all at once. It made the darkness of Percy's attack and the setting of Grimmauld Place all that much darker in comparison. His eyes brightened, and the old man before him gave him a knowing smile. In that moment, Harry forgave Dumbledore everything he had ever done to keep him downtrodden.

"Of course they will be monitoring your actions, but you will be allowed to practice defense and related subjects, while under adult supervision. Remus," he looked at Lupin with a smile, "You will be needed this summer to provide the adult supervision if you are able. Again, I'm sorry Harry, but you cannot tell your friends about this. It is imperative that this stays as secret as possible, at least until the school year starts."

"So I can't tell them now, but I can tell them later?" Harry was on the edge of his seat, his eyes flashing with happiness and wary resolve.

"Doubtless they will realize that you have improved somewhat over the summer when you reconvene the DA. Due to Miss Granger and Mister Weasley's avid curiosity, I believe it would be pointless and possibly even dangerous to keep silent about it then. You are still not, however, to tell them that you have been granted permission to join the Order."

"Excuse." Interrupted Mr. Lovegood in a smooth voice. "But what exactly is this DA you keep going on about?" It was obvious Mr. Lovegood was a newer member of the Order, and hadn't yet been told many of the things that had happened last year.

Dumbledore held out his hand to defer to Harry, and Harry nodded. "Hermione, Ron and I were getting really frustrated with that Umbridge woman-" he spat the word distastefully, "-and her classes. We were doing nothing while we were there, but reading the text. And if I do say so myself it was a pretty useless book. She wouldn't let us practice defense at all." He saw Lupin smile out of the corner of his eye.

"Anyhow, we haven't really had any good Defense teachers, except you professor," he smiled back, "for so long now that we just felt we shouldn't wait for one to show up. So we just started doing it ourselves. Mostly it ended up being me doing the teaching, but I learned a couple of pretty good hexes myself along the way." Harry thought briefly about Ginny Weasley's 'bat bogey hex' that she'd taught him, and it made him smile.

"Is that how Neville got involved in that crazy Ministry brawl in June?" Mrs. Longbottom asked Harry reverently. "I was so proud when I heard he'd been fighting Death-Eaters. I never thought he had it in him. You must've been quite the teacher." She trailed off.

"Luna too?" asked Mr. Lovegood, looking positively gleeful. "I've always said that girl was intelligent! She could smell a crumple horned snorkack from a mile away!"

Harry raised an eyebrow and he nodded. "And I wanted to apologize for that. I shouldn't have gotten them into it all. What I really wanted to do was just to train them in case they _needed_ to fight. They heard me say that someone I knew was in trouble at the ministry, and they wanted to come along and help. I really shouldn't have let them. I knew it would be dangerous, I guess I thought I could use all the help I could get. I'm sorry." Harry was truly embarrassed by his total lack of judgement on this occasion, but he felt it would be worse to deny or try to hide it now.

Mrs. Longbottom nodded, smiling brightly, and she sighed wistfully.

"Yes," said Mr. Lovegood impatiently, brushing Harry's apology aside suddenly as though it were irrelevant, "but what exactly does DA stand for?"

Harry blushed, and looked up at Dumbledore. "It stands for Dumbledore's Army." He said, smiling secretively. "Ginny thought up the name. It's supposed to be basically an Anti-Umbridge slogan. You know, the Ministry of Magic's worst nightmare. We can change it if necessary. I know that the Ministry seems to be on our side of this war now. Besides, DA can also stand for Defense Association. That was the first suggestion."

Professor McGonagall laughed. "I wondered where you got that name from! I don't think changing it will be necessary."

Dumbledore gave a wry smile. "I certainly won't be pushing my nose into your business with the DA so you can basically continue on as before. I'm honored by the reference, but I promise not to make it a reality. The only thing I ask is that you keep your ear open for any stories you think could be of interest to the Order that you hear, and to pass them on to me or to another Order member. From what I've heard from your friend Miss Granger, stories of deceit and dark happenings pass between your group quite easily."

Harry smiled wryly. "They do. I've gotten a lot of useful information from them." Harry decided not to mention the fact that Luna was often the one spouting about spirits of fire and Crumple-Horned-Snorkacks and other things that had never existed. Now that he had met Mr. Lovegood, Harry could sort of see why her delusions were so strange.

"Good." Dumbledore stood now. "I'm pleased we've gotten the important points out in the open. Any suggestions, please come to me later this evening. I'm afraid I must be off. I have an important meeting with Minister Fudge today, and I do not want to be late.

"Tonks, Kingsley and Remus, I would appreciate it if you would escort Harry to St. Mungo's Hospital to meet with the Weasleys." And he swept from the room dramatically.


	3. The Spell Damage Ward

A/N: I've only just realized that my formatting has been a little skewed for these first three chapters. In the places I wanted scene jumps, I've just been putting in a double space, but that wasn't showing up here. Anyone out there who might have suggestions as to how I'm supposed to fix this please let me know, it would be much appreciated. My apologies now go out to those who are crazy grammar fanatics! For those of you who didn't notice the problem, well, I was once young like you....

Disclaimer: All hail the almighty goddess of Harry Potter. (It's quite obvious that I am speaking of JK Rowling, and not myself.)

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**Chapter Three -**

**The Spell Damage Ward**

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Harry, Tonks, Kingsley and Remus left Grimmauld Place half an hour later, and walked as quickly as they could to the underground station. Tonks and Kingsley spent most of the time looking about them for any sign of dark wizards who might be tracking them. Remus and Harry darted their eyes from side to side occasionally, but for the most part, chatted quietly about the Weasleys.

Ron's family was huge, and as much as Harry didn't want to admit it, they would be lucky to escape this second rising of Voldemort and his followers unscathed. Harry had caught Mrs. Weasley fighting a boggart last year that kept turning into all of the members of her family, dead on the floor in the middle of the drawing room.

The boggart was a creature that turned itself into your worst fear. Harry certainly knew that Molly of all people had the right to fear the deaths of her family. With odds in the first Voldemort war being one dead out of every five, a family of seven which was right in the thick of things stood more than a small chance of losing one or two.

At the time, Harry hadn't truly understood that fear. He'd been a little more surprised and, to be honest, honoured by the fact that she considered Harry to be part of her family. Harry's dead body had momentarily lain in the drawing room along with Arthur's, Bill's, Ron's, and the rest of the gang. Now however, he understood that fear above all. Harry now felt slightly guilty that his boggart had never depicted Sirius being killed. Of course, he knew that if he now saw a boggart, he would still remember Sirius' death while staring at the clammy hands of a Dementor.

He was a quite nervous to be seeing the Weasleys now. He wasn't sure he wanted to talk any more about what had happened to Percy. Even though he now knew that Voldemort wasn't trying to possess him, for some reason he still felt guilty about the whole thing. It had been _his_ hands that put that tympanus curse on Percy. _He_ had felt the anger and frustration as if it were his own. It was not a part of himself that he wanted particularly to confront.

They arrived at the stop and left the train, feeling as though eyes followed them wherever they went. They continued on along the road until they came to the tall building with a glass front and ugly chipped mannequins of women wearing out of date fashions. The sign on the door read - CLOSED FOR REFURBISHMENT.

Kingsley leaned in close, and whispered through the glass. "We're here to see Percy Weasley."

One of the mannequins slowly nodded her head, and Harry, Kingsley, Remus, then Tonks leaned through the glass, and came out inside St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

Harry heard a screech and was immediately attacked by a gaggle of redheads. Ginny, Fred, George and Mrs. Weasley all came sailing towards him and he found himself being hugged, slapped on the back, and in the case of Ginny and Mrs. Weasley, kissed on the cheek. He noticed that they were all rather long-faced, and he could see that Mrs. Weasley's eyes were red and swollen, but he imagined that he probably looked much the same. He hadn't gotten a huge amount of sleep the night before.

"How is he?" he asked with trepidation.

Mrs. Weasley sniffed, and he saw her eyes begin to water again.

"That bad?"

Fred nodded looking strangely somber. "Have you ever met Mister and Mrs. Longbottom?"

Harry's heart sank so deep in his chest he could no longer feel it beating. "Oh, no. Not like them." He whispered.

Neville's parents had been tortured into insanity by a group of Death Eaters led by Bellatrix Lestrange, the same woman who had killed Sirius Black in the department of Mysteries. They were both nearly comatose, walking around the hospital ward like ghosts not really seeing or feeling anything at all.

Fred nodded. "He's just like them. At least, the way they were in the beginning." His shoulders began to shake noticeably. "But he's worse than they are now...And I called him a git." He broke into sobs, and covered his face with his hands. Harry put a hand lightly on Fred's back and George did the same from his other side. Harry's eyes misted over. "Fred, you can't deny that he's made some poor choices over the last year. He was taken from the burrow, so he must have been trying to get a hold of you to apologize."

Mrs. Weasley yelped, and stared at Harry through her tears. "How did you know that?!" Harry only now noticed the restored silence of the other three. "He sent me a note... and I only got it just as we were being told by professor Dumbledore that he was in danger..." This looked like news to everyone, and even Kingsley, Tonks and Remus stared between her and Harry with slack jaws.

"I... I saw it."

"You mean in a vision." It was a statement, not a question, but Harry nodded nonetheless. "How much did you see?" Now Mrs. Weasley looked livid, and Harry was honestly afraid to tell her what he had seen, much less that he had been the one _doing it_.

Harry shook his head instead. "I... This isn't the place. Some other time... please Mrs. Weasley." He pleaded with her, and the shuddering in his voice must have convinced her.

She nodded, and patted him on the back, sighing.

The Weasleys led Harry up the stairs to the fourth floor. The door read - SPELL DAMAGE WARD. Harry paused before the door. He didn't want to go in. He didn't want to see Percy or Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom, or Gilderoy Lockhart, another failed Defense teacher, who had no memory of him at all.

All of those people were stuck where they were because of him. He knew it was a long shot with Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom, but in a rather roundabout way their insanity was due to Harry. Part of what Bellatrix and her group had wanted to know was where Harry was being kept as a baby, and where their seemingly ghost-like dark lord had gone. When the Longbottoms did not know or didn't tell what they knew, the evil witch tortured them with the cruciatus curse, hoping to get them to break down.

Fred walked back to Harry who was stuck staring at the wall outside the Spell Damage ward. He took Harry's hand with an oddly serious look on his face. Harry looked back at him, and an exchange took place in their eyes.

Fred won, and Harry let himself be dragged into the room, his face the epitome of sadness, and guilt.

He wasn't mobbed this time, but the first person he saw was Ron, and he walked directly to him and clapped his arms around his best friend's back.

"You all right mate?" Ron queried, as they separated, and turned Harry towards the bed. It was obvious Ron could see the dark circles under his friend's eyes, and the uncontrolled shaking of his hands.

"Not bad." Was Harry's response, but the look in Ron's eyes said that he knew Harry was anything but.

Percy lay with his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling with limbs twitching every so often. Harry found it so hard now to look away. He wore the lavender robes of a St. Mungo's patient, which clashed horribly with his vividly red hair. His skin was tinged with a luminescent green, and bits of purple bruising showed through in some places.

"He's been like this since they brought him in. The healers thought that the sound of our voices would help him, but nothing we say to him seems to get through." Ron looked dolefully at the pale figure on the bed. "It only seems to make him worse."

Harry stared, and a feeling of _knowing_ exactly what was wrong seemed to steal over him.

"Mrs. Weasley, I need you to perform some magic on Percy." Harry said quietly.

Mrs. Weasley's stifled a sob. "W-w-what k-kind of m-magic?" In the background, Harry saw a crowd of people walk in the door. He could see another two Weasleys, Hermione, Neville and Luna with them, but he paid them no attention. This was far more important. They caught his eye, and nodded, remaining unseen near the door.

Harry, who now felt strangely in control of himself and his emotions, walked over to her and took her hand. "I need you to point your wand at him, using a circular motion, and say 'finite tympanum.'"

"What? Why?" Harry felt her hand shake in his.

"Trust me Mrs. Weasley. It will make him feel better. I would do it myself if I was of age." Harry didn't dare mention that he would be coming of age much sooner than any of them expected. Not after the warning he'd gotten from Dumbledore.

Mrs. Weasley took out her wand, and shakingly pointed it at her son. "Finite Tympanum." She said uncertainly, and Percy's limbs stopped quaking. His eyes still stared at the ceiling. Molly Weasley gasped, and slumped into Harry's arms.

"Oh!" She sobbed into his shoulder. "Will he be all right now?"

Harry wished he could tell her for sure. He'd only just realized that Percy had been suffering all day, and nobody had known what to do. In a way, he was angry at himself for not getting here sooner. He was angry at Dumbledore for not bringing him here directly. "Where is the healer for this ward?" he asked, trying not to let the anger influence his tone.

A woman with blonde curls, who was standing beside the divider curtain cleared her throat. "Um, I'm the Healer-in-training." She stared at Percy in shock. "What was that spell you used?"

Harry didn't smile. Nor did he answer her question. He felt a little angry at her as well, for not being able to see what was happening. He knew she couldn't possibly understand, but suffering was suffering, and there had to be ways of finding out. "Are you familiar with the Tympanus curse?" he asked.

"Well, yes. I was told it was impossible to tell if one had been performed on a person. How did you know?"

Again, Harry didn't answer her question. "Is deafness not a result of the curse?"

"Well, yes, but there are ways of circumventing and repairing mild hearing loss."

"Do you think that Percy is now completely deaf?"

The healer walked over to Percy's side, and snapped her fingers. Nothing happened. She clapped her hands, nothing.

She clapped them louder and a perceptible flinch crumpled Percy's features for a moment. Percy's eyes closed. Harry also saw Hermione jump a few centimetres out of the corner of his eye, and turned to see Ron put a hand on her shoulder in a comforting gesture.

"Without a doubt, he can still hear some things. The damage should be reparable." The healer smiled at everyone, and Harry felt Mrs. Weasley slide down his side.

He tried to catch her, and was able to slightly slow her descent, but she still hit the floor with a small thud. She had fainted.

"I'll get a hover bed." The healer-in-training said, and quickly levitated the unconscious form of Mrs. Weasley over to the side wall. She lay out a blanket, and lowered the levitating form onto it.

Harry simply stared. "She'll be all right?"

"Yes, of course." The healer smiled. "She's just had a bit of a shock. I won't revive her just yet. She needs to get some rest."

As it was, the rest of the Weasleys and Hermione were staring at Harry as if he had four heads. Harry felt unnerved by their rapt gazes, and didn't hesitate to tell them so. "If you're all finished staring, I would like to visit with your father!" He stomped out of the ward, and moved quickly down the stairs to the day clinic and temporary care ward, knowing that his anger was unjustified, and getting more angry because of it.

He heard the clomping of at least three sets of feet on the stairs above, and made to hurry up his descent.

"Harry! Wait up!" he heard Hermione call.

"I don't want to talk about it all right?" he yelled back.

Ron's lanky frame had somehow nearly caught up to Harry, so he stopped, hoping they would get the idea that he wanted to be alone. "No, Harry mate, we just wanted to go with you, and let Dad know what's going on with Percy!"

Ginny and Hermione arrived just behind him, and Ginny added her bit in. "We know how things always seem to happen to you, we just wanted to be there for you!"

"Well, maybe you shouldn't!" Harry yelled.

"What?! Hermione gasped. "Why would you say such a thing?!"

Harry blushed and shrugged, feeling embarrassed now. He hadn't told them about the prophecy, and to be honest, he wasn't sure that he should. "Nothing." He said morosely.

Ron clapped him on the shoulder. "C'mon mate! It's been two weeks since we saw you last. Couldn't you be in a bit better spirits for us, even if it's just an act? It seems like all I ever see you doing nowadays is frown!"

Ginny elbowed her brother in the ribs, and her eyes darkened in pain and anger. Harry knew that she was remembering Sirius.

Ginny had spent quite a bit of time with Sirius last Christmas, and they had formed a sort of friendship, if one could call it that.

She was seemingly the only one who understood what Sirius had meant to him, and Harry was suddenly gripped by the fierce urge to hug Ginny Weasley. Her eyes didn't pity, but empathised, and felt the pain of loss just as deeply.

"I miss him too." She said quietly.

Harry closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tamped the urge to cry down deep inside himself.

He thought he'd succeeded, when the girl's bony arms moved around him. She clutched at his chest, and Harry felt his breath shudder with suppressed sobs. His arms moved of their own accord around her slight form, and squeezed tight.

Two more sets of arms circled round, taking in both him and Ginny, and Harry suddenly felt his heart lift with the strength their touch seemed to be giving him.

When everyone pulled away, Harry yanked off his wire rimmed glasses, and quickly smeared his damp eyes on the sleeve of his jumper. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed all three of his friends trying inconspicuously to do the same.

He heard a quiet giggle, and not a moment later all four friends found themselves laughing uproariously in the middle of a stairwell in St. Mungo's hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. They were all sniffling and red-eyed, and the giggles only made more tears dribble out. They didn't have a clue what they were laughing about, but it felt ridiculously good.

Mr. Weasley was with one of the healers as they walked into the short term care ward. It seemed that they were just doing a final checkup, and the healer was about to release him.

"How are you doing dad?" Ron asked, walking up to him.

Mr. Weasley stood and winced, clutching his hand to the ribs on his left side. "A little tender, but the bones have healed well."

"Good." Said Ginny. "You'll need to go and see to mum."

Mr. Weasley looked at her sadly. "Is she feeling all right?" he whispered.

"She's... resting, actually." It seemed that Ginny didn't want to tell her father that their mother had just passed out cold. "But we actually came to give you good news about Percy."

Arthur's eyes widened. "There's _good_ news?"

"The healers say he has a chance of recovering." Hermione said quietly.

"Just a chance?" Mr. Weasley asked, looking both elated and concerned at the same time.

"Well, Harry remembered..." Ron trailed off when Ginny elbowed him in the ribs again. They both looked over at Harry.

"You were the one who tipped off professor Dumbledore, weren't you?" Mr. Weasley asked with a tight-lipped expression.

Harry, who still had not been able to look at his best friend's father nodded at his shoes.

"You saw everything?"

"Most of it." Harry mumbled.

Arthur stormed forward, and Harry tried to shrink away. Instead of the angry blow he was expecting though, the wizard grabbed him up in the most heartfelt hugs Harry'd had in a long time.

"Thank you." Mr. Weasley ended the hug with a hearty slap on the back for his adoptive son. "And you know what Percy needs to get better?"

Harry couldn't believe he had thought this man would hit him. He silently berated himself for his stupidity. It wasn't as though any normal adult had ever hit him before, but in Harry's tired and confused mind, anything was possible. He tried to cover his flinch by giving a report. "I got Mrs. Weasley to perform the reversal on him. He's still not great, and he's got some hearing loss."

Hermione broke in. "But the healers say they can reverse that, and once he can hear everyone's voices and know that he's safe, then he should come out of it."

"That's very good to hear. I've got to sign some parchments, and I'll come right up to see everyone... Hermione, are you okay?"

Everyone's eyes turned to look at Hermione. She didn't look like anything was wrong, but then Harry remembered that Mr. Weasley had been injured while protecting Hermione and her parents. He wondered what had happened.

"I'm all right," Hermione said sheepishly. "I'm a little shaky, but I can get over it."

Harry now eyed Hermione closely, and saw that she was as pale as Mr. Weasley, and her bushy brown hair was more knotted and unkempt than ever before.

"What happened at your house?" Harry asked her.

Hermione shuddered. "Well, some death-eaters showed up and tried..." she gulped nervously, and her eyes began to water.

"No, it's all right. You don't have to say anything. I shouldn't have asked." Harry quickly promised her.

"No, I think I should tell you. I told Ron and Ginny."

Ron leaned over to Harry, and whispered so that Hermione couldn't hear, "Beware the waterworks."

"All right then." Harry said loudly, to cover Ron's rude comment. He lowered his voice next when he saw that Hermione had winced in reaction to the volume level of his voice. "Lets hear it."

"I'll just go sign those parchments," said Mr. Weasley eyeing the group, and he left.

"I'd been asleep, and I heard a sound downstairs and it woke me up. Well, actually, it was Crookshanks that woke me. He must have known that something was wrong, because he was growling and hissing." She took a deep breath. "That's when I heard the noises downstairs. I thought it might be mum or dad just getting a sort of midnight snack or something, so I went to the top of the stairs and called down. But it was really these four death-eaters. I don't know how they got into the house. I thought professor Dumbledore had set up a protection shield around us. I guess it wasn't strong enough or something."

Harry had a flash of a dark hooded shadow _One's even a muggleborn. That should be fun for you, Platt. You may join that team. _The shadow was nodding eagerly, anddisappearing through a door. Harry gave himself a mental slap in the face.

"Well, the Death-Eaters saw me up there, and they came running. I was able to stun two of them, but the other two grabbed me, and took my wand. I started yelling, and it woke up my mum and dad. They tried to help, really they did." Harry saw the first few tears leak out of the corner of Hermione's eyes.

"They stunned them, and took us all into the living room." Here, Hermione began to sob in earnest. "They t-t-tied us all up in chairs, and... and..." Harry came over and put his hand on Hermione's arm. She stepped away from his touch, seeming not to want the comfort. "They asked us some... awful questions, and threatened us when we couldn't tell them anything."

Harry was still worried for Hermione, but now he was also curious. "What sorts of questions did they ask you?"

Hermione was pacing back and forth now. "They really just wanted to know what Dumbledore was planning. They asked about the prophecy again, but they wanted to know if I had heard what was said in it. They also wanted to know what kind of person Dumbledore was... I think he said, 'putting into the Dark Lord's chosen place.' But I don't know what that means. He said he needed to get that person somehow. Then he told me I was stupid for not knowing what he was talking about."

Harry remained silent. He had determined that his fate dictated by the prophecy would not in any way put his friends into danger, but it seemed he was too late for that. He knew he should tell them what the prophecy said, but he just wasn't ready. In fact, it might be better for everyone involved if he never told them what that horrible glass sphere had actually contained.

"Most of it was stupid stuff. They asked if I was proud to be a m-m-mudblood, and if I thought I was smart. They asked dumb things that made me feel awful. They said I was worthless, except for what I could tell them about Dumbledore, and for... and one... one of them tried to... M-m-my dad was really worried, and he kept trying to get them to talk to him instead of me. They- they put the c-cruciatus curse on him."

Ron suddenly looked as if a lightbulb had gone on over his head. He looked suspicious and angry. "Wait a minute," he stopped Hermione's ramble. "Did one of them try anything fresh with you?" he stared at her, his eyes shooting fire.

Both Harry and Ginny's eyes widened. Obviously Hermione hadn't told them everything if the way she was now looking at her toes and chewing her fingernails was anything to go by.

When she spoke again, it was in a whisper. "He said that... when he grabbed me, he'd felt good about being able to just f-f-force me where he wanted, and he said a little more forcing couldn't hurt. He only touched... my face... but I still felt..." She shuddered, and hugged herself tightly. Obviously the experience was more than a little difficult to talk about.

A crash, then a tinkling of glass made Hermione jump, and squeak nervously.

Harry and Ginny looked around to see that a nearby beaker with dregs of potion in the bottom had exploded. They both looked back at Ron, who had turned completely red with anger. Harry couldn't be sure, but he had the feeling that Ron had just let some of his anger release itself in a spot of accidental magic.

"Oh, Hermione." Ginny whispered, and moved forward to hug her friend.

Hermione sniffed, stepping away from her and let out a nervous giggle. "I mean, at that point, your dad, p-professor McGonagall and Mundungus Fletcher were there, and they stunned the two death-eaters, and untied us.

"I got my wand back, and we were about to go, but one of the guys that I'd stunned earlier had woken up and we didn't realize it. A big fight broke out, and Mr. Weasley got caught by that hex. He was the one with the portkey, so we all made our way over to him, and we portkeyed out." She sniffed again. "That's pretty much all there was to it."

Hermione shook her fanned hands in front of her, as if to get the blood flowing again.

Ginny tried to move forward again to hug Hermione. This time, she let her come in, but the hug was stilted, and looked quite uncomfortable. Hermione hugged back lightly, as if she didn't really want to be doing it.

"I wish you'd told us earlier about that." She said. "I'm sorry."

More tears leaked out of Hermione's eyes, and she tightened the hug unconsciously. "I d-d-didn't want to w-w-worry you." She shuddered.

Ron, who had been silently fuming through the end of her story was cradling his fist in his palm menacingly. "When I find out who..." he grumbled, then looked at Hermione being hugged by Ginny. "They're the ones who should be worried, Hermione."

She smiled at him sadly.

Ron's machismo died down after a moment, and soon all four friends were hugging again. Ron and Harry encircling both Ginny and Hermione.

When they all pulled away, Hermione giggled. "This feels familliar."

They all knew she wasn't just talking about their encounter in the stairwell. Sometimes it was just comforting to have your friends near by.

Harry had already been hugged so many times he couldn't feel his torso. Every one of the Weasleys had thanked him, especially Molly, who had near broken Harry's spine when she woke up.

He had gotten some rather interesting comments about his methods of Healing from the healers, and Neville to his surprise had discovered that the Tympanus curse had also been used on his parents. As an experiment, he had given them a deck of cards which was set to explode as if they should play 'exploding snap'. The two of them threw cards onto the table in a random order until one of them exploded. Neither parent flinched. Apparently the tympanus charm had faded ages ago, leaving them both mostly deaf.

Neville was of two minds about the issue. For one thing, he now had a definitive answer regarding why his parents had never responded to him, and there was now the possibility of reversing it. It seemed they still had some hearing as well, but the damage was quite extensive. On the other hand, Neville thought he had been telling his parents his deepest secrets and most fervent desires his whole life, when the only true listeners had ever been the walls.

The problem with the cruciatus curse was that it needed comforting sounds to pull the people out of their personal hell. When crossed with the Tympanus curse, it made the effects of the cruciatus impossible to reverse.

So there was hope for Neville and his parents yet.

Harry, Hermione, Neville, Luna and all of the Weasleys stayed the rest of the afternoon. Tonks and Kingsley told them they would remain in the Hospital, and would have to follow Harry and his friends around. Harry didn't really mind so much. As long as they kept him updated on what they were doing. The dark mood seemed to have lifted from the spell damage ward.

"So, Hermione, got all of your classes picked yet?" Harry asked her that afternoon while in the tea shop on the top floor. She, Harry, Neville, Ron, and Ginny all sat laughing and taking a break from Percy for awhile.

"What? You know we have to wait for our OWL results to pick classes." Hermione said.

"We do, but you don't. You're a cert to get all Outstandings. You can just pick whatever classes suit you best."

Hermione blushed. "I'm not guaranteed all O's," she said looking at the table.

Neville piped up. "I don't know. I actually think I did well for once. Even in potions. And we're all pretty much guaranteed O's in Defense." He looked at Harry gratefully. "and I think that if I can say that I did 'not badly', you've got to be one hundred and ten percent in everything."

"Speaking of Defense..." Hermione began, looking around at the crowded tea shop. "Will we still have the DA this year?" she asked in a whisper.

Harry grinned. "I can unconditionally say that we will."

"Good. Any ideas for the first few meetings?"

Harry leaned forward. "Actually, I do. More a sort of set up idea. I want to get as many people involved in this as possible, so I thought we'd start trying to recruit some of the first and second-years. I need a team of people who I trust not to spill the beans unless they see potential in students. I think you guys fit the bill. I was going to ask Hannah Abbott to deal with the Hufflepuff students. She seems pretty trustworthy."

"That's a great idea. But how are you going to teach us all at the same time? I mean, won't that be a little difficult, what with two levels of meetings going on?"

"Not if I ask my recruiters to act as assistant teachers."

Everyone sat back stunned.

"Harry! That's an incredible idea!" Ginny beamed at him, and made him blush.

She suddenly looked a little worried. "Uh, you did mean that I would be helping too? I mean- if It's just Hermione and Ron you wanted, then by all means-"

Harry held out his hand to stop her. "Don't worry Ginny. I meant all five of you, plus Hannah, if she's willing to join. I mean- who would be able to teach a better bat-bogey hex?"

Ginny smiled again. "Thanks. That one's my best."

"Just don't practice it on me okay?" Harry shuddered theatrically, and everyone else laughed.

"You really want me to help teach?" Neville asked in almost a whisper.

"Of course I do! Didn't you tell me that you've bought yourself a new wand?"

"Yeah..." Neville answered, uncertainly. "My dad's old one was broken beyond repair."

"Well if there's one thing I've learned about anything, it's that people are not always like their parents. You're not your father Neville, and his old wand was not for you. It's not an insult or anything I'm giving you, it's just the truth. I'm sure this new wand will suit you much better."

"Are you sure?" Neville said, pulling his new wand from the waistband of his jeans and eyeing it closely. From what Harry could see, it looked like it was made of maple.

"Of course I'm sure. From what I know about my parents, my mother was quite good at Charms and had a willow wand, and my father hated Defence Against the Dark Arts class and had a mahogany wand. Does that sound anything like me?" he pulled out his own wand and lay it on the table. It was very obvious, since wands and wand makers were studied in charms class, that his wand was a sort of holly.

Hermione giggled. "Not at all!" she turned to Neville. "Don't worry. You'll pick things up easily with that new wand."

Neville smiled, and put his wand away very carefully.


	4. Lessons with Lupin

A/N: I'm going to have to put something into those silly absent spaces to hold their place. I guess for now I'll just throw anything in there. Even a line of periods or something. I don't know.

I've reloaded this chapter with the correct numbering system. I called it chapter three before, however I must have some math skills lacking, and mislabelled it. Sorry about the inconvenience!

Disclaimer: I'm not getting any profit for this, so I don't expect anyone to blow their stack if I throw JK Rowling's characters into a few bumps and scrapes.

**Chapter Four - **

**Lessons With Lupin**

Harry's moods seemed to swing back and forth like a pendulum that entire week. One moment, he would be grinning, and laughing with his friends, the next completely ignoring or yelling at everyone. The smallest comment about Sirius, or the tiniest hint of boredom would seem to send him far off the deep end.

He tried to tamp down his anger, but sometimes it seemed to just spill out of him like a bubbling cauldron. Lupin had even warned him that he wouldn't supervise him practicing Defense if Harry was going to be snippy with him. That made Harry work extra hard to hold back the anger inside. Whenever the cauldron began to bubble, he imagined the scene in the stairwell of St. Mungo's and sometimes he was even able to smile. The broad range of his emotions made quite a few people on edge and silent when they were around him. This of course made him even angrier and the cycle would continue. He would, while meditating in the evenings, realize afterwards what sort of a git he'd been.

Percy was able to hear again, and was even responding to voice commands. He hadn't spoken at all, but everyone was hopeful. Harry had yet to see him in his current state, but Ron had told him that he was doing very well, and that made Harry feel a little better. No matter what he'd had to go through to do it, he'd saved a life, and that was something to be thankful for. He hadn't been able to save Sirius, but at least there were no more deaths.

Remus and Harry met secretly for their first lesson a week before Harry's sixteenth birthday. He wasn't sure why he was going if he couldn't use magic yet, but he was so happy to be doing _something _constructive, that he didn't argue.

"Sir?" Harry asked, standing in the door of what used to be Sirius' study.

"Hello Harry." The professor nodded. "I think we'll make these meetings informal. Please call me Remus, or else Moony if you prefer."

Harry smiled. "I might do a little of both." He walked in, and perched beside his tutor on the desk edge. "So what are we going to do today if I can't use magic yet?"

"We're going to talk about defensive theory."

Harry's face twisted into a grimace.

"What's wrong? You don't like theory?"

Harry shook his head. "No it's not that." He took a deep breath, and looked fleetingly at the back of his right hand. "It's just that theory was that -Umbridge- woman's favorite way to torture us." He rubbed at the back of his hand now. "That and horrific detentions."

Remus eyed Harry, and noticed what he was rubbing. "What happened to your hand?"

Harry abruptly jerked his hand behind his back, and stared at Moony nervously.

Remus gave him a look that said, 'I'm sure to discover what it is sooner or later, you might as well show me.' So Harry brought his hand back around to his front to reveal the white puckered scar. He didn't want to, but maybe Remus would understand.

Moony took his hand tentatively, and gasped at the words etched in the back of it.

"It was a blood quill." Harry said quickly. "She made me write that line on a sheet of parchment, and every time I did, it would cut into my hand and the words would appear on the parchment in my own blood."

Remus looked livid. "And you had detention for lying how many times?" he asked calmly, the sound of his words belying his facial expression.

"Oh, I lost count somewhere around twenty."

"Did you ever actually lie to her to result in these detentions?"

Harry looked him directly in the eyes, pleading him to remain silent about the ordeal. "Never. Not once. It was always because I had said something about Voldemort being alive again in her class. She said I was lying, but I could barely stop myself from doing it again just to spite her. She made me so angry."

Remus released Harry's hand, and Harry cradled it in his left, looking nervously at the spot where the words 'I must not tell lies' were engraved and scarred into the skin in white lines.

"She's toast." Said Remus, staring Harry down aggressively.

Harry eyed him and nodded with a nervous smirk on his face.

"Anyhow, back to magical theory, I think you'll find this a lot more interesting than your previous experience with the subject."

Harry nodded. "What shall we talk about today?"

Moony looked thoughtful. "Have you ever experienced either wandless magic or soundless magic? I know some people do it without realizing it long before they're ever trained into it."

Harry stared at him. "I've done wandless magic loads of times." He said in a whisper.

Remus gaped. "Tell me what have you done without a wand then?"

Harry pulled out his wand, and lay it on the desk beside him. "I once lit my wand while it wasn't in my hand, I performed the accio spell once without pointing my wand at the object I wanted to summon, and I've made cupboard doors and windows open and shut and unlock and stuff." Harry paused thinking about how each time he had performed wandless magic, he had been in grave danger. "Of course there's always all of the unintentional magic I do during summers."

"Unintentional magic is different." Remus interrupted. "Unintentional magic is uncontrolled, it usually involves making things explode or disappear. True wandless magic is difficult, because most wands serve as a focus for the power you have within you. Without a wand. Most wizards are just muggles that sometimes make things blow up. You seem to have grasped the focus by some other means. The accio spell is a rather impressive form of wandless magic. That should make your learning to control it easier... tell me, what were you doing at the time it happened?"

Harry looked down at his feet, and took a long moment to answer. "I summoned the triwizard cup to me when I escaped from Voldemort after the duel in my fourth year. I was holding... holding Cedric Diggory's body, and I couldn't bend myself to point my wand at the cup when I said the charm. I have to say I was even a little surprised that it worked. I haven't thought about it much since. I guess I assumed that it was normal."

Remus nodded. "Strong emotions such as fear, anger, excitement, and love can often propel us to perform magic we otherwise wouldn't be capable of."

Harry looked embarrassed. "I've only ever done wandless magic using fear and anger."

Remus nodded again. "Those are acceptable forms for our purposes, but I must admit, using love to power wandless magic feels so much better."

Harry nodded, and said, "I'd like to try that." But he didn't see how it would work. He couldn't off the top of his head remember much about what love felt like, and the thought depressed him. The scene in the stairwell at St. Mungo's was worth mentioning, but Harry didn't feel that it was strong, or heart-wrenching enough. It was more calming than anything.

"Next subject. Soundless magic!" said Remus suddenly sensing Harry's distraught condition.

"What is soundless magic then?" Harry asked, trying to shake off the dark thoughts.

"Soundless magic is magic done without words or incantations. It can be used in situations where you need to remain silent and unheard. Very useful for surprising your opponent."

Harry smiled this time, imagining himself dueling a death eater, and being able to hit them with some unheard jinx. They wouldn't even have to know where the jinx had come from.

"I can't say I remember ever having done that. I guess I've just never tried it."

"Don't worry," answered Remus, "It requires much the same power as wandless magic. I'm sure you'll do fine."

Harry nodded.

"There have been some who are able to master both at the same time, and from what I've heard, the more often you do it, the less you have to rely on some powerful emotion to drive you. It becomes more natural."

"You can't do both?" Harry asked intently.

"Not at the same time, no. Your father and Sirius were quite good at it though." Moony said quickly.

"Really?" Harry asked, excited to hear anything he could about his father or Sirius as students. Maybe this wandless and soundless magic was hereditary or something.

"They had to learn it properly to be able to become animagi. The spell requires the power of the mind, and it is a transformation that makes the wand move itself into the body of the creature you inhabit. Obviously with no wand and no voice, a wizard has to get himself back to human form somehow."

"Can you teach me how to be an animagus?"

"Alas, that is not something I would teach you even if I could. I'm not about to set you doing illegal magic or anything of the sort here. Let's just focus on these two subjects. However, I should let you know that the practice of becoming an animagus is considerably lessened in length when one already has the capabilities for wandless and soundless magic." He winked at Harry knowingly. "If you have these abilities already in you, then it might only take a day or so to learn how to become an animagus."

Harry nodded, smiling, and he and Remus began to discuss the simplest properties of wandless and soundless magic.

000000

Harry's birthday dawned bright and clear.

His excitement level was nearly palpable, and he wanted to take advantage of the feeling and try a little magic. Harry stared at the snoring form of Ron in the next bed. As an experiment, Harry picked up his wand from the bedside table, pointed it to his jeans, swished and flicked it, and thought very hard, _'Accio.'_ The pants jerked, but did not fly to him.

His excitement mounted. He could do this... the jeans had jerked, and that was something. He pointed his wand again, swished and flicked, and thought much harder. _'ACCIO PANTS!'_

The jeans leapt from the floor, and sailed across the room to his outstretched hands. He put them on, nearly laughing aloud from the satisfaction he'd gotten out of trying that charm totally soundless.

He quickly rolled a tee-shirt over his head, and raced down the stairs to find quite a few people sitting around the kitchen eating some of Mrs. Weasley's breakfast.

"Good morning Harry!" Mrs. Weasley plunked a plate of toast, scrambled eggs, and sausages down on the table and pulled out the chair to indicate him to sit. "Happy birthday." She smiled, and Harry walked over to her, gave her a big hug, and sat down to his breakfast.

"Thank you Mrs. Weasley." He said politely, promptly stuffing his mouth full of sausage. "I've got to go and meet Remus in a few minutes. Do you know if he's here yet?" he asked after swallowing.

Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips so they were white. Obviously, she still felt that Harry's being given the opportunity to do magic during the summer could get him into trouble. Dumbledore still hadn't told her anything about his invitation to join the Order.

"He arrived just about twenty minutes ago. He's just gone up to the study, and asked that you meet him there." She said quietly.

Harry scarfed down his food, rinsed his plate in the sink, thanked Mrs. Weasley again for the meal, and raced up to the study.

The door banged open as Harry swept in. "Remus! Guess what?" his arrival surprised his tutor, and Harry saw him jump a few inches.

"What?" Remus asked trying to emulate the excitement level of his student.

"I can do it! Look!" Harry pulled out his wand, closed his eyes, and focused on the giddiness that was coursing through his veins. He thought very hard of the word, _'LUMOS!'_ and he was absolutely transfixed as the tip of his wand lit up.

"That's awesome Harry! I'm glad you've found a way. If you don't mind me asking," He paused. "What emotion did you use to power it?"

"I thought you could've guessed." Harry said teasingly. "This is my first birthday away from the Dursleys since I turned one year old! Of course it was excitement!"

"Ah, I thought so. You look absolutely bouncing!" He walked quickly behind the desk, and reached into one of the drawers. "Happy birthday, by the way." He handed Harry a large box wrapped in red and gold paper. Harry smiled enthusiastically, and tore through it with a look of gleeful anticipation on his face.

"Wait." Remus said quickly. "Try your wandless magic now to open it." He grinned.

Harry put both his wand and the package down on the desk, and thought very hard about the feel of his wand making a jabbing motion. He kept his hands at his sides. "Reveal!" He said loudly.

The box lid jerked, and slid to the side, and Harry looked at the contents, astonished. "Is that a pensieve?" he asked in awe, pulling out and examining the small bowl. "How could you..." Harry's question trailed off into nothing when he realized how crass it sounded.

"How could I afford it?" Remus said, seemingly listening in on Harry's thoughts.

Harry nodded, embarrassed. He shouldn't be asking something like that. He knew Remus didn't really have the means to buy even enough to live on, as Werewolves usually had a near impossible time getting a job. But that was no reason to call attention to it. "I'm sorry, it's none of my-"

"Harry, it wasn't just from me." Remus said quickly. "Sirius and I went in together to get this for you just before he died."

Harry's emotions leapt in a strange direction. He was saddened by the loss all over again, but strangely lifted by the image of the small rune covered bowl that stood before him on the desk.

His throat choked up, but he was able to mutter, "thank you," quietly to his tutor.

"Try it again now." Remus whispered.

Harry looked at the concerned face of his father's friend, and understood.

He closed his eyes, and concentrated as hard as he could on the feeling inside him. He somehow felt that Sirius was watching him and was proud of what he was seeing. "Accio wand," he said, and felt something like a warm breeze pass through him as the wand flew through the air and touched his fingers.

Remus was right. Love did feel better.

000000

Harry and Remus spent the morning practicing defense, and talking about the penseive Harry had received. Harry was anxious to try it out. Apparently the pensieve had the capability of showing Harry some things he hadn't even remembered. Harry wanted to see what he had in his brain, even subconsciously about his parents.

Before he could, however, Hedwig arrived through the study window. She preened herself, and stuck out her foot to allow him to take the message that was tied there.

"Thanks Hedwig." He handed her an owl treat from his pocket. She nipped his hand affectionately, then fluttered over to the corner to eat it.

Harry gulped when he saw the Ministry of Magic seal.

He handed the message to Remus. "Either it's another stupid message telling me I'm using underage magic, or I've got my OWL scores. I can't read it either way."

Remus took the letter, looking at Harry questioningly. "Which marks are you worried about?" he asked, tearing at the seal on the back.

"Well, most of them, really. Not divination, Astronomy, or History of magic, I know I've failed those, but all the others are a little important." He shuddered. "Especially Potions."

Remus looked at the parchment that he'd unfolded from the envelope, and shook his head tutting loudly. "You've failed everything." He said with a twinkle in his eye.

"Come on Moony! This is important!" Harry yelled, now pacing back and forth.

"What did you need to get in Potions?" Remus asked.

Harry growled, nearly tearing out his own hair in suspense. "At least an Outstanding." He muttered through his teeth. "I need Exceeds expectations in everything else."

Remus handed the parchment to Harry. "Then I guess congratulations are in order."

Harry gaped. "No way! I got an O in potions?" he asked scanning the page, and crumpling the edges a bit in his rush.

00000

Dear Mr. Potter

We are pleased to inform you of your official Ordinary Wizarding Level results. Please owl Professor Minerva McGonagall at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with your selection of classes to take at the Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests level.

Legend: O – Outstanding

E – Exceeds Expectations

A – Acceptable

P – Poor

D - Dreadful

OWL results for HARRY POTTER 

Transfiguration (O) Pass Newt level acceptance - YES

Potions (O) Pass Newt level acceptance - YES

Charms (E) Pass Newt level acceptance - YES

Defense (O) Pass Newt level acceptance - YES

History of Magic A Pass Newt level acceptance - NO

Herbology E Pass Newt level acceptance - YES

Divination P Fail Newt level acceptance - NO

Astronomy A Pass Newt level acceptance - NO

Magical Creatures E Pass Newt level acceptance – YES

**TOTAL OWL'S RECEIVED – 8**

( ) indicates that the mark received was a combined mark for both practical and written exams.

**Compulsory NEWT level class for all sixth years –**

**Wizarding House and Home **- taught by your head of house, this class is designed to teach the basics of wizarding life such as cooking, cleaning, basic first-aid, and simple mechanical repair.

Other options available for sixth-year NEWT level classes are - 

**Magical Music** - An instrument is like a wand, it chooses you, and if you would like the opportunity to let one find you, this is the class to take. Both those with musical experience and without are equally welcome.

**Philosophy of Magic** - A compelling study of Dark magic versus Light magic. Includes magic as abstract thought. And allows the class insight into current and historical magical phenomena through discussion.

**Media; Journalism, Photography, and Art** - A study of current events and the way in which the Media portrays them. Includes an analysis and history of Art and photography, in the wizarding world. Includes a general study of rights and freedoms.

Of these three optional classes, each sixth year is allowed to choose **ONE**. Please send your response immediately to professor Minerva McGonagall no later than August 15th.

Professor Grizelda Marchbanks

Ministry of Magic - UK

000000

Just as Harry was reading the last bit of the page, both Hermione and Ron came pounding through the door.

Hermione was squealing loudly. "We got our OWL's! What did you get!?"

Ron was smiling as though he had just received a medal for bravery.

Harry could hardly speak he was so blown over by his potions mark.

He'd passed. He'd also gotten through to NEWT level. He just smiled genuinely at his friends. "I'll just say three words to you now."

They stared at him. "What?" Hermione asked.

"Take that, Snape!" Harry gloated pointing to the big 'O' after the word 'Potions'.

"Me too, Harry! Me too!" shouted Ron. "We still have a chance of being Aurors!" they laughed, and looked at Hermione. She glowed with pride.

"Did you get all O's?" Ron asked her.

"No, but pretty close. I got all ten OWLs that I went for though! It's too bad I had to drop Divination and Muggle Studies. I might have gotten all twelve."

"Eight." Said both Harry and Ron together. They looked at each other in surprise and each raised an eyebrow. "Divination?" They asked each other in unison, and broke out laughing.

"I even got a Dreadful there." Ron told him, still chuckling.

"Just goes to show that you shouldn't go around calling the OWL examiners ugly." Harry retorted. "I got a Poor."

Remus, who had remained quietly sitting on the edge of the desk, watching the brotherly cameraderie, spoke up. "I think the important question here, is what did you all get in Defense?"

All three of them had to look at their letters to check. Harry really hadn't been concerned about that mark. He'd felt quite confident during both the written and practical exams, and he hadn't felt quite the same pressure that he had in the Potions exams.

He looked over at Ron and Hermione searching their page for their mark. He hoped they had done well. He had a vested interest after all.

"O" they said happily in unison.

Harry smiled proudly at them. "Same here."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Obviously you got an Outstanding! It's not like either of us would have gotten that mark if it weren't for you!"

"Thanks." Harry said, blushing.

"Harry, mum has lunch ready if you want to come down." Ron changed the subject.

Harry looked over at Remus. "Right. Are you coming down Moony?"

Remus nodded. "I've got something to do, but I'll be down in a moment.

The three headed down the stairs, to the kitchen, talking the whole way about having received such good news on their OWL reports.

"I thought for sure that I'd failed History of Magic." Harry shook his head.

Ron laughed. "Yeah, you fell asleep in the middle of the exam. Pretty strange that you were able to pass after all of that."

Harry didn't really want to think about that part of the exam. He'd stayed up so late the night before the exam to study. He'd fallen asleep in the middle of writing and had a vision of Voldemort torturing Sirius in the Department of Mysteries. The vision wasn't true, but he'd thought it was, and Harry had gone out to save him. Sirius had shown up with a bunch of people from the Order to rescue Harry and his friends, and in the meantime, they had gotten Sirius killed.

In a way, Harry thought, it was the History of Magic exam that had caused the whole thing to begin with. The History of Magic exam had killed his godfather.

Harry wanted to change the subject. "What's for lunch then?" he asked.

The door swung open to the kitchen and it took Harry a moment to realize what was going on.

"SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

Harry had nearly pulled his wand on them he was so astonished. "What...?" he stuttered.

At least half the DA and most of the Weasleys were sitting in the kitchen, and had screamed greeting at Harry when he walked in.

"We thought you could use a real birthday party mate!" Ron said above the din.

"Did you catch on?"

"No, I hardly thought about having a party! I've never had one before!"

That nearly silenced the room.

"What?" asked Luna. "How could you have never had a birthday party before?"

Harry looked a little sheepish. "I must've had a party when I turned one, but obviously I don't remember it." Harry tried to make a mental memo to try to find his first birthday in his memories with his new pensieve.

"You mean, your aunt and uncle never bothered to give you one?" asked Seamus Finnigan. "That's a travesty!"

Harry didn't want to admit that he hardly knew what one was supposed to do at a birthday party. His cousin had had a lot of them, but Harry himself was usually shipped off to stay with a Mrs. Figg, a batty old cat loving woman who, Harry had discovered last year was a squib, the muggle daughter of a witch or wizard. Once he had been dragged along to the Zoo, but Harry hardly thought that counted as experience.

"I was ready to pull my wand on the lot of you, you know that?" he said, trying to catch his breath and take the seat offered by Ginny.

"You haven't got a chance Harry! We know how to defend ourselves now!" Hannah Abbott yelled from farther in the back of the kitchen.

"And why do I have the feeling that I'm going to regret that one day?" he called back, and everyone chuckled.

"Speaking of Defense, what did you all get on your Dark Arts OWL's? I know it's none of my business, but I just thought I should ask."

Everyone pulled out their OWL letters to show Harry. "I got the lowest mark." Seamus said. "Exceeds Expectations. The examiner wrote a separate note to say that he noticed that I hadn't finished my written portion, and that he'd been forced to grade that half down to 'Acceptable'. He told me he was very impressed with my practical, so he graded my final mark somewhere in between."

Harry was astonished. "So everyone got 'Exceeds Expectations' or more?" he stared round the group.

"Oh, come on. I even got an O in Defense." said Neville. "I haven't told my gran yet, but I'm sure she'll love it."

"Is she here?" Harry asked.

"No she's gone shopping, and said she'd be back this evening."

Harry had a sudden thought about the building they were currently in. "How did you all get in here?" he asked curious. "I thought this place was supposed to be secret!"

"Don't worry. It is." Hermione consoled. "Professor Dumbledore gave us permission. He said if you could trust everyone to secrecy about the DA, then he could trust them too."

Harry's eyes widened. "He really said that?" It seemed that professor Dumbledore was putting in a special effort to make up for last year's mistakes. Harry should probably let him know that he appreciated it.

"Now, who wants cake!" Mrs. Weasley interrupted.

"Who doesn't!" said Remus as he waltzed in with Tonks and a few other order members.

"You knew about all of this?" Harry asked him.

"'Course I did! They asked me to keep you out of the way for the morning!" He answered laughingly.

Harry thought briefly that keeping him out of the way hadn't really been all that difficult, seeing as they had planned to meet for a Defense session. Harry looked pointedly at him to tell him so.

Remus just smiled at Harry, and took a piece of cake.

000000

Harry had a wonderful time at his party. The day seemed to pass quickly, and before he knew it, people were slowly trickling out of Grimmauld Place.

Hermione had everyone link pinky fingers with Harry as they left, and say that they promised not to reveal to anyone the secrets of the DA. Apparently this was a more acceptable promise than getting them to sign a jinxed piece of paper. It just meant that Harry would immediately know if someone had gone back on their word. It wouldn't do anything horrible to them, like write the word 'sneak' on their face like it had Marrietta Edgecombe when she had squealed to professor Umbridge last year.

Apparently, it was the same way Dumbledore had made the lot of them promise not to reveal any of the Order's secrets. Harry figured that if Dumbledore thought it necessary, he too would give it a try.

Of course this sort of swear meant that the 'assistant teachers' could go about inducting other members, as long as they had Harry's permission. It was ingenious really.

That night, Harry went up to his room carrying his small load of presents. He eyed the pensieve for a moment, and decided that he was too tired. Besides he was supposed to be avoiding being overemotional just before bed.

He meditated for half an hour, and collapsed into his bed a happy, normal sixteen-year-old wizard.


	5. Percy

A/N: Please, would someone tell me how to skip a line on this thing?! I can't figure it out, and it's driving me nuts! 

Disclaimer: My cats are telling me I have no life, and that I get the best kicks out of writing Harry Potter fan-fiction. They would never let me do something so heinous as to profit from it.

**Chapter Five -**

**Percy**

"Harry, wake up!"

Harry groaned, and slapped an arm away from his shoulder. He was having the best sleep he'd had in at least three months, and the person jiggling his shoulder was ruining the experience.

"Harry, mate, you promised you would come with us!"

"C'mon, Harry." Said a second voice, and suddenly Harry's mind clicked into place. He opened his eyes, to stare into those of Ron and Neville. Both of whom had asked Harry to come along to see Percy and Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom that day.

"Right." Harry said grumpily. "I'm up."

"Good." Said Ron. "Mum was getting worried. She says you're normally up with the sun. It's already ten o'clock!"

Harry pushed aside the blankets, and had to forcefully stop himself from summoning his jeans to himself again. There was no way he would be able to keep his magic secret if he were to do that. He stood, and walked across the room to get them.

"Are you guys ready to go... oh!" Ginny stood in the door that she had barged through, staring at Harry in naught but his boxers. "Sorry!" She yelled, gave a quick one-eighty, and ran from the room with cherry coloured cheeks.

First Neville, then Ron began to snicker. Harry just rolled his eyes at them, trying not to blush, and slipped into his jeans. He grabbed a fresh tee-shirt from his trunk, and put on his socks.

He was hungry, so he ran to the kitchen, grabbed a bite to eat, and rushed out the door with Ron, Ginny, Neville, and four Order members.

Harry always felt a bit of shame and frustration when he thought about how he was always being watched and surrounded. He felt the same now, but as the four members were Mad-Eye, Tonks, Remus, and Mrs. Weasley, he felt a bit more as though he were just leaving Grimmauld Place with a bunch of friends.

When they arrived at St. Mungo's, they trooped immediately up to Percy's floor, and slipped into the Spell Damage ward.

Harry was again, a bit nervous, but he remembered that Ron had told him that Percy was doing better. Nothing could be worse than the way things were before, could they?

He was wrong.

Percy was now sitting up, and Bill Weasley, the eldest of the siblings, was helping wash and dry Percy's hands like those of a baby who had gotten into a pile of dirt. Percy himself was trying to pull them away, and Bill was chastising him for being naughty.

"Hey, Perce!" Said Ron jauntily. "Thought I'd bring you some friends."

Mrs. Weasley held back, and let the youngsters move forwards.

"Hi Percy." Ginny let her arms go round her brother's neck. He didn't return the hug, but stared behind her, directly at Harry.

For the first time in weeks, Percy had emotion in his eyes.

Fear.

"Hello, Percy." Harry said quietly, and Percy flinched. "Are you feeling all right now?" he asked as gently as he could.

Percy still said nothing.

"It's all right, I can see that you are." Harry saw Percy's empty waterglass on his nightside table, and gestured to it. "Would you like me to refill your water, Percy?"

Slowly, Percy Weasley nodded, still looking at Harry with fearful eyes. Harry wished it would stop, and that Percy would go back to the way he was. Even if he had to be the same pompous git that he had always been, it was better than this... child living in an adult's body.

Harry filled the glass from the nearby sink, while the Weasleys fretted over Percy some more. When he returned, he handed the waterglass over to Percy, and he took it tentatively, then tilted it to his mouth, and began to glug.

"Little thirsty there, eh Perce?" Said Ron, laughingly.

A scratchy squeak pushed it's way through Percy's mouth, and all who were present gasped.

"What's that Percy?" Harry asked as if he had not heard anything unusual.

"More please." Said Percy, and handed the glass to Harry. Harry took it, but instead of filling it back up he put his hand close to Percy's shoulder. When there was no perceptible flinch, Harry slowly lowered the hand to comfort him.

"Percy, your brothers tell me you haven't eaten any food since you've been here." He said quietly. "Would you like something to eat too?"

No one else wanted to talk. It might interrupt this talkative spell Percy was having.

Percy slowly nodded.

"What would you like then?"

Percy looked at Harry fearfully, and another squeak escaped his lips.

"What was that Percy? You're going to have to speak up."

"Chicken." Said Percy.

"All right, we'll get someone to send you some chicken." Harry nodded to Ginny, who seemed to be the only one able to move. She slowly backed away, and began to run to the nearest Healer.

The chicken arrived, double time, and Percy took up a fork and began to plow his way through the fried chicken the same way he had the glass of water. Harry gave Ron a look to tell him they needed to be alone. Ron backed slowly away, and escorted his mother and Remus behind the curtain so they could listen without Percy realizing they were there.

As Percy was taking the last bites, Harry again pressed him to talk. He knew Percy hadn't yet said anything to anyone, and it now looked as though he was the only one who could get Percy out of his self-inflicted prison. Harry took the job a bit reluctantly, but with the good of the Weasleys on his mind.

"Percy do you remember what happened to you? Just say yes or no, you don't have to tell me."

"Yes."

Harry nodded. "Do you remember that I was there for awhile too?"

Percy looked very nervous. "Yes."

"What did I tell you then?"

"That you would send for help." It was the most Percy had said since he had been taken, and Harry could hear Mrs. Weasley's sobs begin from behind the divider curtain.

"And did I send for help?"

"Yes."

"Do you trust me, Percy?"

"Yes."

"Do you believe me when I say that you are completely safe now?"

Percy stared up at Harry in what looked like bewilderment. "Yes." He said, nearly gasping as he said the word.

"Are you safe now Percy?"

"Yes." Percy actually smiled. And he looked up at Harry with tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry." He said quietly.

"Why?" said Harry.

"I never believed you before." Percy whispered. "You were right. He's back." And he began to weep.

Harry took Percy's tray from in front of him, and sat down on the bed. He extended his arms, and let the emotionally crippled man fall into a hug.

When Percy no longer needed any support, Harry gently pushed him away, and looked into his eyes. "It doesn't matter what you believed then. This is now, Percy, and your family is very worried for you."

Percy nodded again.

"Will you talk to them if I leave? They want to know that you're all right."

Percy nodded.

"Let me hear you say it Percy."

"All right." He said, and Harry slowly backed away, and signaled Ron, who walked cheerfully around the corner.

"All right then Perce?" He asked. "Are you tired?"

"A little." Said Percy, and he lay back. Ron tucked the blankets more securely around his brother. "Where's mum?" Percy asked.

"Right here." Molly sobbed from the opening in the curtain, trying to sound as normal as possible.

"Hi mum." He said, and Mrs. Weasley made a choking noise.

"Hi Percy." She sniffed. "I'll be right here if you need me."

"Thanks." Percy said, and drifted off to sleep.

Ron walked over to Harry, and looked at him curiously. "_That_ was amazing." He said honestly.

Harry shook his head. "I could tell he was waiting for me to come. I spoke to him when I was inside... the vision, and I told him I would send for help. He was waiting for me to tell him that I was the one who had actually sent people to save him. I think he was afraid that Voldemort had tricked him."

"I don't understand, but it worked, so I'll have to take your word for it." Ron shook his head, and he clapped his arm around Harry's shoulder.

000000

The next morning, Harry read the last six editions of the Daily Prophet, something he had been putting off for as long as possible. The Prophet had shown itself to be a notoriously unreliable newspaper, and Harry had learned to take each article with a grain of salt. Every once in awhile though, he would come across a completely unbiased and well-written article, usually crammed on to the last page as if the editors were somehow sneering at the writer's opinions. Percy's attack and subsequent rescue and hospitalization were written in acceptably sketchy detail on the bottom of the second from last page of the Tuesday edition. It seemed they were trying to pretend that the Minister's right hand man, Percy Weasley had been attacked and tortured by thugs due to his working relationship with the Minister, and had been rescued by a friend, who had taken him to hospital.

They had no mention of his current condition, nor of the fact that he was now being guarded twenty-four-seven.

On page three, buried in the classified ads, Harry saw an article about how some muggles were convinced they'd seen Sirius Black, the notorious escaped mass murderer, somewhere around Anglesey. Harry only wished it were true. The wizarding world still didn't want to accept the fact that Sirius was innocent, and there was no way they would ever believe that he was actually dead. That he had died to save his godson.

Because of the rocks-for-brains minister of magic, Cornelius Fudge, Sirius' will and testament could not be opened. Harry thought that perhaps Remus would be getting quite a settlement if it were to be read. Sirius would not be so ignorant as to leave his considerable trust to Harry, who already had quite a large pile of money waiting for him in Gringott's Wizarding Bank. Apparently, Harry's parents had been quite well off. As had Sirius been, due to the fact that apparently he was the last actual direct line descendant of the Black family, so the considerable wealth of that line passed to him alone. But Remus would never take charity from either friend when he was younger, and Harry thought he might even try to dispute it if he was left money in Sirius' will.

Which still could not be opened.

All of the other articles in the news focused on 'He-who-must-not-be-named,' and his apparent silence since the acts in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry.

Harry tore the last paper in half in his frustration.

They would never learn.

000000

Just after lunch, Professor Dumbledore had called Harry into the study to speak alone with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley about his current standing in the Order. Harry was a little nervous, but he hoped they would understand.

"How is Percy doing?" Harry asked quietly as he tentatively pushed the door aside.

Mrs. Weasley smiled, and nodded. "He's doing quite well. They say he should be able to come back here to stay with us within the week."

"You won't be taking him back to the Burrow?"

Mr. Weasley squeezed his wife's shoulder reassuringly when she grimaced. "Percy says he doesn't want to go back. I think he's afraid of being there."

"That's understandable." Harry said, just as professor Dumbledore walked into the room.

"What is it you wanted to discuss with us Albus?" Mrs. Weasley folded her hands demurely, and took a seat in one of the chairs.

Dumbledore didn't bother to skirt the issue. "I wanted to let you both know that I have invited Harry to join the Order, and he has accepted."

Mrs. Weasley suddenly went pale, and her eyes shot sparks. "He's just a child Albus! How could you put him in danger like that...?" And suddenly she was weeping on her husband's shoulder again. She seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.

"I will not allow him to go off on missions yet, nor will I ask him to risk his life for us. I am not an intentionally cruel man, Molly. He has the right to decide for himself, even if he is not yet legally of age."

"But he's so young..." Molly's sobs choked Harry's heart, and he felt he should comfort her too. He felt a little guilty now for accepting the headmaster's offer without consulting her. She was after all, the only mother he had ever known.

"Mrs. Weasley, I need to know as much as I can. I'm a danger to everyone around me if I am naïve."

"How can you say that Harry! You don't know what you're talking about!"

"I know the prophecy." Harry stated bluntly.

Molly's tears rolled down her face, but her eyes were surprised. By the look on hers and Arthur's face, Dumbledore hadn't told them the complete contents of the prophecy.

"Obviously professor Dumbledore hasn't told you about it."

Mr. Weasley put his arm around his nervous looking wife. "We knew that there was one about you that could be dangerous if You-know-who heard it, but we don't know the contents."

"I have not told anyone in the order the true nature of the prophecy, Harry." Said Dumbledore. "It was not for me to tell, and I will not do so without your permission." The older man was not facing him, but looking almost wistfully out the window. As if he wished most fervently that he were elsewhere right at that moment.

Harry nodded thankfully at him. All this time, he had thought everyone else was trying to keep the secret from him, when in truth, they hadn't even known the secret themselves. "I have to tell someone." Harry stated bluntly. "Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are the closest things I have to parents. They deserve to know."

Dumbledore nodded, and swept from the room. The door clicked shut behind him, and Harry turned back to look at the Weasleys. They looked quite honoured at Harry's devotion to them, but also a little frightened.

"I'm sorry you have to hear this, but I'm glad I'm the one telling you." Harry went to them, and took both their hands. "I haven't even told Ron or Hermione...Anyhow, when professor Dumbledore was looking for a new Divination teacher about sixteen years ago, He met with professor Trelawney in the Hogs Head pub in Hogsmeade." He paused, and looked into both their eyes for strength. "She told him a prophecy then that I haven't been able to get out of my mind for the last month. It goes like this.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies." Here Harry took a deep breath. "At this point in the prophecy, an eavesdropper was discovered and thrown out of the building, but it was too late. The man went off to his master and told him what he heard."

"But that's so vague Harry. It might not be you!" Mrs. Weasley looked so hopeful, and Harry hated to dash her enthusiasm.

Harry looked at her pointedly to stop her hopes from rising. "The eavesdropper did not hear the whole prophecy." He saw her eyes darken with tears, and felt her hand begin to shake in his.

"And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal." Harry let go of Mr. Weasley's hand, and touched his finger to the very famous scar on his forehead. He returned his hand to Arthur's and continued with the prophecy. "But he will have power the Dark Lord knows not." Harry took another deep breath, for this was the part of the prophecy he loathed the most. "And either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives."

Mrs. Weasley let a small whimper escape her lips.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies."

Silence permeated the room.

"That's a barbaric thing to tell a child." Mrs. Weasley looked angry again, but she was still crying.

"Barbaric, maybe." Harry answered her honestly. "But we both know that as long as he is still alive, I can't have a normal life. And that means I might have to know some things that someone my age probably shouldn't. I need to understand why things happen the way they do."

Mr. Weasley was staring at Harry with an expression of great pain and pity, absently rubbing one hand on Mrs. Weasley's back. "I can see that you haven't been a child now for a long time, Harry. When did that happen?"

Harry just shrugged, but he felt slightly better for getting the problem of the prophecy off his chest. "I don't want pity." He said emphatically. "I was born into a mission of my own, and if I live through its completion, I will have time to be a child then."

Mrs. Weasley's eyes sprouted hot tears and she gathered Harry into her arms, holding him for all she was worth.

Mr. Weasley just looked at Harry sadly. "Things don't often go backwards Harry."

"Ah!..." Harry ripped himself viciously out of Mrs. Weasley's arms, and pressed his palm to his forehead. He'd felt a particularly strong twinge, and he realized what was going on.

Voldemort was incredibly happy.

Had he been listening to his conversation? Did he know the prophecy now? Harry couldn't waste time worrying. He had to find out.

Mrs. Weasley had begun to shake again, Harry calmed his tense muscles and pulled his hand away from his forehead.

"What is it?" Mr. Weasley asked nervously, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder.

Harry didn't answer. He closed his eyes, and began to meditate.

For a moment, Harry tuned everything out. All of his pain, and both of Ron's parents. He became nothing, looked for nothing, and had nothing.

All of a sudden, he could see everything.


	6. The First Battle of Voldemort's Second R...

A/N: Thank you everyone for the amazing reviews. I should let you all know ahead of time that this story has been finished _completely_, and all I'm doing is cutting up chapters and editing before I post. Expect to get at least four chapters a week, although I'll be away for the next few days. I didn't want to leave you with a cliffhanger like the one in the last chapter. (I hate people who do that, just as much as I hate people who take two to three weeks between each post.) 

By the way, I don't remember who asked me not to make this a H/H, H/G or slash fic, but I wanted to let you know that I have no intention whatsoever in making this into a romance story. THIS STORY IS NOT A ROMANCE! (There are implied H/G and R/H moments certainly, but nothing for any heavy shipper to worry about.)

Disclaimer: JK Rowling rocks.

**Chapter Six - **

**The First Battle of Voldemort's Second Rise**

He opened his eyes to look into those of his headmaster.

"We need to have a meeting. Right away." Harry said, standing up, and the headmaster and student practically ran down the stairs to the kitchen. The Weasleys began to collect as many Order members they could find, and told them all to make their way to the kitchen.

"Voldemort has gathered his army and is at this very moment, marching on Azkaban." Harry said clearly, once he was certain that all the members who had shown up, were all that were going to show up.

"This does complicate matters." Dumbledore said, folding his hands into a point beneath his nose. "Thank you, Harry, for telling us this." He said the words in a way that said he had not forgotten Harry's words about not becoming a human radar for the Order.

All the members present began to murmur, and most were looking at Harry and Dumbledore as if they might have lost their minds.

"How did you see this, Harry?" he asked.

Harry looked around nervously. " I felt Voldemort's happiness and a pain in my scar, and I began to meditate. I thought it would get rid of the pain, but instead I saw Voldemort and Bellatrix with about thirty other Death-Eaters at a tall black gate. There were people on the ground at his feet. Either dead, or stunned, I'm not sure. They were performing a spell, and the gate was opening for them. Voldemort was saying something about the stupidity of the Azkaban guards." Harry didn't dare say that he had been _in _Voldemort's mind, and it felt as though he was the one who had done all of those things. He had seen the entire attack, all from Voldemort's perspective. He hadn't been able to take control, like he had with Percy's attack, But he still had that strange sensation that Voldemort still hadn't known he had been witness.

"We knew he was intending to do so, but the when was another issue. Do we have the required resources to mount a rescue?"

"We do." Said the gruff voice of Mad-Eye Moody, and his large magical blue eye revolved around the room and came to rest on Harry. "But only just. I'm not sure we have enough people to deal with it. I've had a plan in mind for awhile now. We're going to have to get a move on, and I'll need to call up some of the Aurors from the ministry for help."

"Do so, Alastor. Would you like my assistance?" Dumbledore asked.

"We could do with any help we can. We need to be sure that Azkaban doesn't lose any more guards. Since the Dementors have left..."

Harry was nearly twitching in his chair. He almost wished he could go, just to make sure Voldemort didn't hurt anyone. But he knew almost as soon as the thought entered his head, that Dumbledore wouldn't allow it.

Harry knew without question that he wasn't ready to fight Voldemort yet, and if he went now, he would lose, and the whole Wizarding world would lose hope. No way. He wouldn't let that be on his conscience. On the other hand, Harry could nearly feel each life being tossed down the drain as it was taken. It made both his scar and his heart ache.

"Right." Said Mad-Eye. "We'll get to it now. Tonks, Shacklebolt, Jones, you all know what to do."

Four chairs were pushed back and the three Aurors and Mad-Eye left the room in a run.

"Anyone else who feels they have something to contribute, please see me." Dumbledore said. He stood up, and walked over to Harry. Harry stood as well, and they looked each other eye to eye. "Harry are you certain that what you saw was fact?"

"Yes." Harry didn't know why he knew this, but he did. He wasn't so consumed by fear for the life of a loved one as he had been the last two times that he couldn't think properly. He was certain Voldemort hadn't been trying to trick him.

"I'm sorry." Said Dumbledore, and he put a hand on Harry's shoulder again. "I don't want you to have to go through all this." He said. "If I had the power to stop it, I would."

Harry turned away from his headmaster's touch, and stomped up the stairs to his room. He wasn't angry with Dumbledore at all, but just angry at everything. Dumbledore seemed to understand. Either that or he was just too busy now to care.

Either way, Harry was left with only Hedwig for company in the locked drawing room for the remainder of the afternoon. He often stroked Hedwig's white feathers, and sporadically fed her rat shaped Owl treats.

Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny and Luna were quite obviously made aware of what was going on. Each of them had attempted to knock on the door to see if he was all right. Harry repeatedly told them he was busy, and they left.

He read through a book of Dark Arts Defence that sat on the small bookshelf by the window, where Sirius had collected a few interesting tomes over the past year to replace the old ones. When she was alive, Sirius' mother had amassed a collection of books with titles such as 'The Human Anatomy and its Weakest Points' and 'A Compendium of Torture Potions'. They had all been in regards to Dark Arts and how to use them. All of Sirius' selections were about how to use light magic and defend yourself. Harry had noticed a few other books, mostly wizarding fiction, and he ignored them. What he was really interested in was defense. It allowed him to feel as though he was doing something important. Something that could help him win the fight against Voldemort.

It also helped to keep his mind from straying out the street to where Witches and Wizards were disapparating to join the fight at Azkaban Prison.

He had seen many people leave the house, as he peered nervously through the front window. Among those leaving the house, Remus, Hagrid, Emmeline Vance, Professor McGonagall, and Dumbledore himself. Harry prayed to whatever gods might listen, that he would see them all again.

While he waited alone for what he instinctively knew was going to be bad news, Harry composed a sort of critique about himself in his head, pacing back and forth, wearing the tread out of the forest green carpet.

He was tired of hearing people say that he was moody and unpredictable. He was tired of watching people flinch and eye him whenever Sirius' name was mentioned.

When he had first come to Hogwarts, Harry had been naïve. He had been basically locked in a cupboard for eleven years for crying out loud. How could anyone expect him to be otherwise?

He knew he didn't want to be a bad person, so thinking that all bad people went to Slytherin, he had been sorted into Gryffindor because he requested it. After a while, Harry came to believe that he was a person of all houses, no matter what the sorting hat said to him.

Harry had felt a little proud at first that he seemed to embody the best of the four houses.

He was as cunning as a Slytherin. He would not have survived so long without that. It was necessary for someone with his dreary past to be somewhat upwardly mobile.

He did have a thirst for new knowledge, as a Ravenclaw might, although he wasn't totally obsessive about it.

He made friends easily like the Hufflepuffs, and accepted people along with their faults as long as they were kind to him to begin with.

He was emotionally strong despite being mentally abused by his aunt and uncle. He was brave, willing to face up to his darkest fears. This was what made him such a good Gryffindor.

All this was five years ago.

Now, being a student of all four houses painted a different picture for him.

His Slytherin sense of self-absorbtion was getting him into trouble. He needed to tone it down, and remember that he was not the only one fighting this war, and he was not the only one losing friends and loved ones.

The Ravenclaw in him was making him think he needed to be all knowing to be powerful enough. That someone around him had all the answers he needed and they were somehow being spiteful in keeping information from him. He was acting paranoid that everyone was against him. He reminded himself to think about the danger and difficulties that went along with knowledge, and he needed to remember that answers would not always be forthcoming.

The Hufflepuff in him was letting other people take advantage of his trusting nature. That was only proved when he had run after Sirius in the Department of Mysteries in the spring. Voldemort knew exactly how to push his buttons, and Harry promised he would never allow it again.

The saddest thing of all was that his Gryffindor sense of pride and bravery seemed to have gone slightly dormant since Sirius' death. He had nothing to be brave about, and death wasn't any strong fear to be overcome anymore. The old Harry would have found a way to follow the others out to Azkaban. He would have done everything in his power to make certain that people were not being hurt or killed.

He wasn't afraid of battle, exactly. It was more that he knew that his death would mark the end of all hope for the wizarding world. He was the only one with the power to vanquish Voldemort, and if he were to run off now, before he was ready, and get himself killed, then there would be no final battle. No way of conquering evil for good.

By the feel of the sporadic twinges in his scar and the momentary glimpses of a giddy Voldemort surveying the massive destruction spread out before him, Harry knew it was hopeless now. It was too late for heroics, and in this case it may not have helped anyhow.

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When people began to return from the apparent battle at Azkaban, Harry came back downstairs, and stood near the door to make sure he would see everyone he knew come back, but he did not.

He and his friends stayed with Molly, Arthur, Bill, and professor McGonagall helping those in pain get the attention they needed. The group of teenagers ran a cloth and bandage squad, and though Harry was silent, he heard many things about what had happened at the Azkaban fortress.

People had either been hurt or had died in this fight, and once again, it was his fault. This was all from what a very bruised-looking Tonks had told him. The battle had been a loss in that they had not been able to keep Azkaban from being breached, and they had not been able to protect the fighting Witches and Wizards of the Order adequately. The ministry's Auror squads were late arriving, and disorganized to a deadly fault.

Voldemort had carried as many wands as he could with him, and every time another prisoner was released, he would hand them a wand and they would swell their ranks. By the time the aurors had arrived from the ministry, Voldemort already had an army of eighty people following him, and attacking as they went. Those prisoners who did not wish to help the dark side were immediately killed.

Hestia Jones was dead. She had been caught in the back with an Avada Kedavra curse when she turned her back on what she had thought was an unconscious Lucius Malfoy. Harry fumed when he heard this. Lucius Malfoy was a long time adversary to Harry and his friends. Draco Malfoy, his son, was nearly as shady and underhanded as his father, and Harry often had a difficult time seeing them as two separate people. Draco Malfoy may as well have been a Death-Eater in training.

Harry was mostly angry at Lucius Malfoy on Ginny's behalf. She had spent most of her first year in fear of being possessed because of him. She hadn't said anything to him about it, but he knew she must still have nightmares about it. At one point, he had even heard her call him Tom Riddle, his old name before he had decided that his muggle father's name was inappropriate for someone who allegedly hated muggles. The innocent sounding name was what Ginny had known him as, making her easier prey for posession.

Mad-Eye Moody was joined by Kingsley Shacklebolt in St. Mungo's. Both had minor injuries, and were told they would be released the next day.

Three Aurors Harry didn't know were dead, as were two of Azkaban's regular guards. He recognized a few last names, however. And knew that many of his schoolmates had lost either parents or relations of some kind. Fellow sixth-year Gryffindor, Dean Thomas had lost his father who was a guard, and Harry nearly cried at the thought that someone else in the world would be missing a parent.

"Do they think we're stupid?" Harry asked Ron while they sat at lunch the next day, reading the prophet aloud with Hermione and Ginny.

"I don't think people really know what's going on." Ron answered sullenly.

Hemione scoffed. "Well, they certainly don't know anything now. They're making it sound as though Hestia died through some stupid accident!"

The authors of the articles regarding the attack at Azkaban had indeed kept quite a few things out of their stories. It seemed that Hestia Jones had been present on business for the Aurors, and had been killed by one of the attacking Death-Eaters.

"Listen to this." Harry grumbled loudly. "Minister Fudge said in a brief interview just hours after the breach, 'There is no way of knowing how the Death-Eaters obtained entrance to the Azkaban grounds. The gates are normally kept under constant surveillance by both regular Azkaban guards and Aurors. It is most likely the Death-Eaters were taking advantage of the changeover from us using the Dementors as guards.' The wizarding community may remember Minister Fudge's comments regarding his distaste for the idea of letting the Dementors leave the ministry's employ." Harry couldn't believe the writers here were so ignorant as to believe anything that Fudge said. Using the soul-sucking dementors had been an incredibly foolish idea by some twit in the Ministry. It had made Sirius' life in Azkaban hell, and Sirius had been an innocent victim.

Ginny snorted. "They make it sound as though the Ministry were the ones who let the Dementor's leave, and not the other way around!"

"Are there any Death-Eaters who are still locked up?" Hermione asked quietly.

"No." Harry said, scanning the article. "It looks as if the prisioners who didn't agree with Voldemort's intentions, or went insane from the effect of the Dementors have all been killed. Voldemort couldn't allow them to be free during his reign."

"Weren't there other people like Sirius there?" Ginny said quietly. "Inoocent people? They must all be dead then." And she started to cry.

Ron moved over to her side, and put his arm around her. There wasn't really all that much they could say to comfort her. Harry felt the same way she did. Those people hadn't deserved the life they had had. Nor did they deserve that sort of death. It was gut wrenching to think about it.

"They make it sound as if all of those people got what they deserved." Harry muttered. "And they still haven't admitted that Sirius is gone. They say here that he must have been involved, what with him being You-know-who's right hand man." Harry crumpled up the paper in disgust, and threw it as hard as he could into the corner. "I can't read anymore of that rubbish."

"Think of it this way." Hermione said thoughtfully. "Although the battle had been in all respects, a loss, there have been some casualties on Voldemort's side as well. You said that three Death-Eaters were killed under a collapsed wall?"

"No one I recognize." Harry said with a disgusted look on his face. "Unfortunately." He put his hands on his hips, and faced the wall. "They must have been newly integrated into Voldemort's service."

"I'm beginning to wonder what the hell all these people think they're fighting for." Ron mumbled under his breath." Do they realize that Voldemort wouldn't dare spare them? He'll kill anyone who stands in his way, whether it be us, or some nameless Death-Eater. Better to be on the losing side than to lose yourself." He gave his sister a tight squeeze.

Hermione was looking closely at Ron as though she couldn't believe something so prophetic had left his lips.

"Are you all going to join in at the memorial tonight?" Harry asked.

"I thought I might." Hermione said conversationally. "I didn't know Hestia very well, but she was always kind to me."

Ginny and Ron nodded. "We'll be there too." Ron mumbled.

"Do you guys know where Luna and Neville are?" Harry asked just before he left the room. "They should know about everything that's happened."

"I think they were studying in our room when I left this morning. I'm not sure they've even heard about the memorial at all." Hermione said.

Harry nodded, and went to tell them.


	7. A Sense of Accomplishment

A/N: I know that in the last chapter I mentioned that Dean Thomas' father was killed at Azkaban, and that he had been a guard. My sister pointed out to me after I had written half of this story that Dean Thomas is a muggleborn. She's right, I'm wrong. She's going to sing the 'I was right' song. But I'm leaving this the way it is with many apologies.

Disclaimer: Even if I can't get any monetary compensation, I appreciate JK Rowling lending me her characters for awhile. She can have them back in the same condition she left them in. I promise.

**Chapter Seven - **

**A Sense of Accomplishment**

Harry and Remus were having daily lessons in the mornings before Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Luna were awake. This way they wouldn't wonder where he was, and Remus could get on with quite a few of his other duties to the Order without the lessons getting in the way.

Harry was getting quite proficient at wandless and soundless magic. He still couldn't combine the two, but he had discovered that trying to force it to happen made him frustrated, and he would lose control, often blowing up an object or two. Most of the glass objects had been removed from the room for safety reasons. He thought the best way to do it was to just let the power come to him. Moony seemed to agree.

One of the best lessons Harry had was one where Remus had him look up memories of his parents in his brand new penseive. Harry had seen his first birthday party, just as he had wanted to since he'd received the present. His parents had been so loving and attentive, and Harry nearly wept with the relief that he now had some happy memories of his parents to carry around with him. It was a far cry from the darkness and depression he and everyone at headquarteres had sunk in to since Hestia's death. The wandless and soundless magic Harry was able to produce after that was astounding. Harry had been able to transform the desk into a chair and back again, all without the use of a wand, and his silent spell on the locked door made it both unlock and spring open with an enthusiastic bang.

They worked on other interesting defensive spells when they needed a break, and Harry had learned quite quickly how to do things like the disillusionment charm. He couldn't do it on himself, and he had a bit more trouble with reversing the enchantment. It was, however, kind of interesting to be having a conversation with a nearly invisible Remus.

When Harry was finally able to catch on to the counter charm, he noticed that Remus was looking a little peaky. His normally pale skin had turned slightly green, and his hands shook when he pulled out his wand to instruct. Harry wondered if he'd been like this the whole day, and Harry hadn't noticed, or if Harry had done something wrong with the disillusionment charm.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked worriedly. "You don't look so well."

"No, I'm all right. It's just getting close to the full moon, and I'm not quite as well... prepared for it as I usually am." He leaned against the side of the desk looking more than a little worn out.

Harry felt awful. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, "I haven't been paying attention to the lunar calendar over the summer. When is it? Is there something I can do?"

"It's in three days, and no, there's nothing you can do, unless you can brew the Wolfsbane potion."

"What?!" Harry's heart doubled a beat. "You mean you're not getting it from Snape anymore?"

Lupin took a deep breath. "I haven't been getting the wolfsbane potion for the last two years, Harry. Snape was only brewing it for me while I was teaching at Hogwarts because it could have been dangerous to the students if I didn't take it. As soon as I stopped teaching, he stopped making it for me."

"That vile, disgusting... horrible man!" Harry exclaimed emphatically. "You need that potion!"

Remus looked at Harry sadly. "I do not need it. If I did, then I would be getting it for free somewhere else."

"Is that what the problem is? Paying for it? Because I-"

"I will NOT take charity." Remus interrupted cynically.

"Then I'll pay you for tutoring me. Isn't that normally what happens when someone has a job? I'll pay you, and you can get it-"

"I don't see this as a job Harry. I see this as a privilege."

"I don't care. You're still taking time out of your schedule to help me, and you need that potion! I don't care if you say that you don't need it. I say you don't look good right now, and being ill your whole life is not something I want to watch happen to you!"

Remus flopped down in the chair beside the desk, looking dejected. He just sat in silence and thought for a long moment.

"It's expensive." He said finally.

"I don't care." Harry retorted. "I don't like having money that I've only got because other people have died, and I'd like to share it with you."

Moony took a deep breath. "Thank you." He said quietly, and there was silence through the room for a long moment. "You know I'm only really ill now because I don't have a pack." Remus whispered, sounding as if he regretted admitting this.

Harry wrinkled his brow in confusion. "A pack?"

"Every wolf has a pack, Harry. A group of animal friends that he can depend on to run with. When a normal wolf gets separated from his pack, he sometimes gets so... so lonely... that he dies."

"Is that what's happening!? You... You're not...?" Harry suddenly felt a fear the likes of which he had never thought of before. He felt a lot like Molly Weasley when she had seen her Boggart. The horrific vision of Remus Lupin on the floor of the study with eyes wide and glassy and with a trickle of blood running from his open mouth flashed before Harry, and he began to panic.

"No, not exactly..." Remus' answer did nothing to allay Harry's fear. "I can't say that it's pleasant, not having a pack, but unlike a normal wolf, I can survive without one. I've done it before."

"Better if you have the Wolfsbane potion." Harry finished. "What did you do before? When... Sirius was in Azkaban?"

Remus sighed. "I was without a pack there for a good twelve years. I guess I just got used to it after awhile. I only had access to the Wolfsbane potion for the last year before he was back, then last year Sirius was there to help. He ran with me every full moon, even against professor Dumbledore's orders. It's just... it's hard to get used to being alone again."

"What would happen if you were to have a pack again?"

Remus shook his head. "I refuse to teach you to become an animagus, Harry. It doesn't matter what you say."

Harry understood. He decided to change the subject. Maybe it would get Remus' mind out of the bleak chasm where it had fallen. "Right, Didn't you say something earlier about levitation charms?"

Remus' eyes lit up even though his body was still looking weak and broken. He was grateful for the new topic. "Yes, there is a way to perform the Wingardium Leviosa spell on oneself! I have to warn you that I've personally never done it, as it requires quite a bit more energy than I am usually prepared to let out. I think a young powerful wizard such as yourself may just be able to do it."

Harry smiled. It made him feel all warm inside that Moony was willing to teach him things he hadn't even done for himself. He was glad that Moony was such a good tutor. Anyone else wouldn't have bothered. In fact he often acted more like a coach than a tutor. He was excited simply at the prospect of giving Harry something to work for.

Harry even had to wonder if he wasn't getting a sort of vicarious thrill out of these sessions, since he so often complimented Harry on his strength of will.

000000

Remus had taken Harry's offer in spirit when he had mentioned it during their tutoring session, but it was a whole other issue for him to get him to actually take the pouch of galleons when Harry offered it to him.

It was the day of the full moon, and Harry had just returned from Diagon Alley with the Weasley's and Hermione. Harry pulled a very sick-looking Remus aside, and quietly handed him a pouch full of gold galleons.

"Harry I can't take this." He said, and handed it back immediately.

Harry stuffed the pouch of money back into Remus' hand, and nearly growled at him. "We've already discussed this. You're taking it, and that's all I'm going to say."

"But..."

"No buts!" Harry said emphatically. "I'll drag you to the Apothecary myself if I have to."

Remus looked at his feet embarassed. "All right, I'll take it now, but I won't accept any more."

"Why not?" Harry asked.

"Because once you go off to Hogwarts, I won't be your tutor any more. I won't have you paying me for something I haven't done."

Harry thought for a moment. "I'll pay you until I leave then." Harry said reluctantly.

Remus nodded.

Little did Remus know that Harry would be paying him quite a lot more than he'd expected. Harry was grateful that Remus hadn't bothered to haggle out a payment plan earlier. Even the pouch he'd just taken was filled with much more than the basic minimum wizarding wage.

"Did you get your school things today then?" Remus asked, trying to change the subject. He uncomfortably slipped the pouch of money into a tattered pocket.

Harry smiled, and rolled his eyes. "Yeah we did. No attacks on us or anything!" He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Harry," Remus said warningly. "You know that professor Dumbledore is just worried about his students."

"Yeah, but did he have to send us to Diagon Alley with seven Order members? I mean, Doesn't that sort-of defeat the purpose of having an Order to begin with if everyone in Diagon Alley can tell who they are, and who they're protecting? Are we not trying to pretend that we're spies here?"

Remus laughed. "Not spies, Harry. Just trying to do the right thing, and be as quiet as possible about it."

"Right. Get yourself off to the Apothecary as soon as possible." Harry said in a whisper. "Maybe you can stay here tonight."

"We do have a meeting scheduled for late this afternoon, and I would like to be there. I'll go immediately, and see you this afternoon... Thank you Harry."

"You're welcome."

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The Order's meeting that afternoon consisted of Snape's report on how Voldemort seemed to be surviving now that he had a larger fighting force behind him. Snape was bluntly honest about the fact that Harry was the top of his list for murder, and would not hesitate the next time to immediately kill him.

Voldemort seemed to be taking Harry's stubbornness personally. He would not allow any of his minions to kill the boy. He wanted to do it himself. Harry saw this as a bit of a relief. Even though he knew he still had to watch out for kidnap attempts, it meant he would be given time to escape or send for help.

In the meantime, Voldemort had to prove his strength to his Death-Eaters, so he was intermittently torturing muggles and muggleborns. Sometimes he would even turn his wand upon a Death-Eater who had displeased him. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that Voldemort was a very powerful wizard, even if he seemed to be having trouble duelling against a teenager.

All in all, Harry felt more anger and frustration regarding his situation than he had felt in a long time at this meeting.

What made Harry the most angry, was the expression on Severus Snape's face. He would look over at Remus every once in awhile as if to make sure that the still quite sick-looking man had not yet changed into a werewolf, then his gaze would shift to Harry, and the eyes would fill with loathing.

Why was Snape doing this for the Order if he seemed to hate all of them? It couldn't be that he respected muggleborns, since any self-respecting Slytherin would usually rather call them mudbloods. Snape, being the head of Slytherin house should have been the worst of all about that. Harry remembered hearing Snape as a young fifth year when he had snuck a look in his pensieve. He had called Harry's own mother a mudblood. Had things changed at all? What was it about this dark and sinister man that made Dumbledore trust him so much?

The only reason Harry could think of for Snape to act as the Order's spy and for Dumbledore to believe in him, was that he truly thought their side would win, and that he would be awarded some sort of commendation once the war ended. If that was the case, couldn't Snape just as easily be working as Voldemort's spy in the order? Couldn't he be working both sides until he knew which would be the eventual victor?

It didn't make any sense to Harry. All he could do was hope that Dumbledore knew what he was doing by having Snape there.

000000

"Are you ready to hear about Warding?"

It was the last tutoring session of the summer, and Harry was working like mad to absorb as much information as he could.

"All right, What sort of warding?" Harry asked Remus.

"Well, there are typically three different types. Emotional Wards are the ones that protect the people from unwanted hassle. They keep out unwanted owls and such. If you connect this ward to a bead," Remus held up a small chain of coloured beads, "They can tell you by their temperature if anyone in the ward is upset or fearful. They are the weakest sort of wards and they can be broken very easily. They are used quite often, as they can be cast around either a person or a place. The personal one allows for the warded to walk about, while the ward follows along always encircling them. The emotional area ward is less reliable, since all a person has to do is just walk outside the boundary of the ward, and the ward-caster won't have a clue what's happening to them.

"It's more difficult to crack an emotional ward if you add a protective ward to the space they most often inhabit. This one, when connected to a ward bead, will tell you the physical state of any dweller. Warm beads are an indication that someone is in physical pain, although the ward itself may speed up many healing processes, and denies certain dangerous hexes from being cast. This is the second most difficult ward to produce, and also to remove. Again this ward can only be placed on an area, so a person just has to walk away from the ward to be vulnerable. With me so far?"

Harry nodded dubiously.

"The last and most complex type of ward is the Apparition Ward. There are two different forms of these. The one where people may disapparate from the warded area to somewhere else, but may not apparate back within the wards, and the most difficult of all, one where all forms of apparition and disapparition are made null."

Harry nodded again thoughtfully. "And the first type is what most people put on their houses."

"That's right, The Burrow has the first, and of course, Grimmauld Place has the second version."

"And this one's the most difficult? Why?"

"Both types of apparition wards require a code. The spell is cast, then a series of three or four words –depending on which version you use- are integrated into the spell. When you remove the wards, it must all be done in reverse. This way, only the caster or those present during the casting may remove the wards. The three incantations are 'emotiward', 'protegiward', and 'appariward'

Remus demonstrated by casting a flash of pale blue around the desk area, then once it had faded completely, he waved his wand again, removing it.

Harry practiced, and two hours later he could do all three types perfectly.

They worked on tying the wards to ward beads. Harry found that it wasn't all that different from the Protean charm Hermione had showed him the year before. Harry explained to Remus that he might want to make his own ward beads for his friends. He conjured six coloured beads and a leather string to loop them through.

Although he couldn't just go and cast an emotional ward on anyone, he did cast one on Remus with his permission and linked it to the small blue bead.

"I probably won't see you before you go off to Hogwarts. I'm doing a favour for Professor Dumbledore." Remus explained, after checking and approving the results of Harry's ward.

"All right then, take this."

Harry was able to stuff a bulging pouch of gold Galleons into Remus' hands, and they clasped their arms around each other. They said their goodbyes, and promised that they would at the very least, see each other around Christmas.

As Harry left the study, he lightly fingered the links in his pocket, and felt that one was slightly warmer than the others.

He smiled. He would miss Remus too.


	8. The Hogwarts Express

A/N: This is where it finally gets interesting... Okay not quite yet, but at least I didn't get tired of writing the story before they made it to Hogwarts. Oh yes, and thank you everyone for letting me know the real Dean Thomas story. It was really helpful! (By the way, I did indeed sing the 'I was right' song to my younger sister over the phone yesterday, although I had to change the lyrics to "I was mostly right, and you were mostly wrong, I'm going to sing the 'I was mostly right' song!")

Disclaimer: Since I can't seem to find as much fun in writing original fiction, I'll just have to wake up to the reality of being totally broke for the rest of my life. (At least I have a good time doing it.)

**Chapter Eight -**

**The Hogwarts Express**

At fifteen minutes to eleven the next morning at King's Cross station, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Luna, all said goodbye to their families, and boarded the Hogwarts Express travelling as usual, on track nine and three-quarters.

The trunks and pet cages were stowed in the overhead compartments with some difficulty, and many grumblings about not using magic until the train started up. The great red steam engine puffed two whistles to give the ten-minute call just as they all took their seats and pulled down the windows.

Ron, Hermione and Ginny all left for the prefect carriage, promising that they would be back as soon as the meetings were over.

Quite a few of the Order were there to say goodbye to Harry, and he couldn't help but think that it was all on Dumbledore's orders. They weren't all there to be nice, but to protect him and his friends. Still even if they were doing it just to make him happy, he was still happy, so it didn't really concern him too much. It was a silent understanding he now had with Dumbledore that his safety meant the safety of the wizarding world. He couldn't complain, since it made way too much sense. He just wished that people would want to see him off because they _cared _about him

What _really_ concerned him at the moment was the figure of Draco Malfoy climbing into the next carriage with his mates Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.

Malfoy didn't look quite so stuck up and righteous this year, but he was still giving people a hard time as he pushed his way onto the train. Harry could hear him berating a young frightened looking first-year girl who had stepped on his toes.

"Uh-Oh." Harry muttered.

"What?" Asked Neville, trying to see what Harry was looking at.

Harry pointed out to where Dean Thomas stood with his mother on the platform, and they were both theatrically weeping in each-other's arms. This was the first time Dean was leaving for Hogwarts when his father wasn't around to see him off, and they seemed to be getting very emotional about it. Malfoy had noticed the tears, and was heading in their direction, a look of gloating disgust on his face. Obviously this wasn't going to be a heartwarming encounter, since his father had been involved with the massacre that had killed Mr. Thomas.

"Uh-Oh is right." Said Neville. "What do we do?"

"I don't know." Harry muttered back. "We need to stop this somehow." He stood back up, and raced for the door. "I'll handle it. Don't worry." Harry thought for a moment that this could be a place and time where he could reclaim some of his lost Gryffindor bravery. It wasn't something he couldn't handle, he knew. Malfoy might sometimes be intimidating, but he held much more loathing for Harry than he did for any other person. Harry would easily be able to sidtrack him.

Neville obediently stayed behind and watched the scene unwravel through the open window, and Harry was grateful.

By the time he had reached the platform again, Malfoy was already yelling obscenities, and Dean Thomas' fist was already being held back to prevent him punching Malfoy's lights out. Mrs. Thomas looked to be a little scared of Draco, and she was holding her son back with a terrified desperation that was slightly alarming.

"Malfoy!" Harry called angrily, drawing his wand and pointing it at him. "Don't you dare!"

Malfoy sneered, and turned to Harry. "Don't dare what Potty? Tell the truth?"

"Nobody wants to hear your filth, so just stop spewing it! Just leave them alone!"

"Filthy murderer!" added Dean, as he writhed in his surprisingly strong mother's arms to get at Draco's neck.

Harry turned to Dean, slightly shocked. Harry knew that the right way to deal with this was to point out the problems with that particular title, but Harry felt a little hypocritical to say it. He sucked in his pride, hoping that as he said the words they might become more true in his mind. "Dean, as far as I know he hasn't murdered anyone. I can't say the same of his father, but Draco Malfoy isn't a murderer." _Yet,_ Harry added silently.

Harry spun back to the surprised looking Malfoy. "That doesn't mean you are allowed to berate Dean in any way Malfoy. I recommend for your own safety and health that you stay away from him." Harry narrowed his eyes, and glared as fiercely as he could, holding his wand steadily in the blond boy's face.

Draco backed down muttering, knowing he couldn't do anything with Harry's wand pointed at his nose. He looked at Crabbe and Goyle, who had approached to flank him. "C'mon." He waved them back onto the train. Harry felt more than heard the many relieved breaths that were expelled by the Order witnesses. Molly Weasley looked a little sick.

"Are you all right Dean?" Harry asked, shooting glances around the station platform, just in case any other recognizeable Death-Eaters were in the vicinity. It wasn't that he expected any, it had just become something of a habit.

A red-faced and tearstained Dean turned to Harry and nodded. "Thank-you." He said. His mother nodded her agreement.

"Any time." Harry began to walk back to the train, when he turned back. "By the way...My condolences on your loss..."

They both nodded, though Dean looked more bereft than Harry had ever seen him.

"I hate to mention it at a time like this... but trust me when I tell you to celebrate the fact that you still have some family left."

Mrs.Thomas broke down sobbing again, clutching her son, and Harry felt horrible. He shouldn't have said that. He felt horrible until she dropped her arms away from Dean, and moved forwards and enveloped him too in an emotional embrace. Harry nervously patted her back in comfort. He realized that she thought he was referring to his own situation. In a way he was, but Harry hated to have pity heaped upon him. It wasn't what he had really intended.

"Mum, uh..." Dean tried to interrupt, sniffling loudly. "The train is going to leave soon. I need to get my stuff on board."

"All right. Remember, I love you." She pulled away from Harry and wiped her eyes, nodding. She kissed her son on the forehead, and stepped back, dabbing at her eyes now with a tissue.

"Me too." Dean spoke to her slowly retreating form.

"Do you need help?" Harry asked.

It took Dean a moment to hear Harry, as he was looking worriedly after his waving mother. Finally, he answered in almost a whisper. "Sure, can you get the other end?"

Harry picked up the weighty trunk's closest handle, and they trundled the trunk up the steps.

Seamus poked his head out the door to a compartment, and Dean gratefully joined him, giving Harry another mournful 'thanks' as the door closed.

Harry went back to his compartment where Neville and Luna sat chatting about a Drama they had both heard on the Wizarding Wireless Network.

The engine gave a single whistle, and train began to move. Harry waved to the people outside, and even after the platform had vanished, he imagined that a large black dog was running alongside the train.

"What are you looking at?" Luna asked curiously.

"Nothing." Harry shook his head at her, and returned to his seat.

"You look worried." She commented. "Perhaps you've caught the poncherga virus? Apparently it makes people perpetually paranoid."

Neville rolled his eyes, and looked at Harry. Neither one of them thought to mention the fact that it was highly unlikely that the poncherga virus even existed.

Harry decided not to comment. "I was hoping that I could talk to you guys about something."

Both Neville and Luna sat further forwards in their seats. Harry reached into his pocket, and pulled out his ward beads.

"I've been reading up on warding spells and such, and Remus gave me these beads." He didn't want to say that he had actually conjured the beads, or explain about his lessons. "I was hoping I could integrate you both into this, so that I can practice."

Neville smiled. "What do you need?"

"Well, if you don't mind. I just wanted to put emotional wards around you, so that I'll know if something goes wrong. It's not enough to really protect you, but I'll be able to tell if you're worried or in danger. Is that all right?"

Luna stared at him with her large vacant expression. "Emotional wards are used to keep magical viruses away too you know. Maybe you should get someone to put you under one, then you wouldn't have to worry about things like the poncherga virus."

Harry didn't know for sure, but he sort of tilted his head to the side in a way that could be construed as agreement. Neville didn't miss it, and chuckled a little behind his hand.

"So you don't mind if I cast one on you?"

Both Neville and Luna nodded. Harry raised his wand, pointed it at Neville, and with a sort of zigzagging motion he muttered, _"Emotiward". _The last zigzag he moved so that the tip of his wand was lightly touching the yellow bead on his chain.

He did the same for Luna next, and her ward was connected to the purple bead.

"Thank you." Luna said calmly. "It's a bit like being innoculated isn't it?"

Neville and Harry laughed. Luna had a very strange sense of humour.

The train jostled them a bit as they crossed a trestle bridge, and the three of them fell silent. It wasn't really uncomfortable, but they all knew that they were just trying to think of what to talk about.

After a few more minutes, Neville finally spoke up. "I wonder who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is going to be this year?"

Harry shrugged. "Dumbledore hasn't said anything. I'm not sure..." He suddenly thought of something and wondered why he had never checked it out before. "Maybe there's a way to find out."

"What? How?" Luna asked, as Harry carefully lifted his trunk down.

"Just a second, you'll like this." He rummaged for only a few seconds before... "Aha!" He pulled out a ragged piece of old blank parchment.

Neville lifted his eyebrows suspiciously, obviously wondering if Luna had made that much of an impression on Harry.

"This is more than just a basic piece of parchment." Harry said impressively, then touched his wand to the parchment face. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." He said, and the thin ink lines of the Marauder's map swam into focus.

He handed it to Neville to let him take a look.

"Who are Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs?" he asked curiously.

"They're the people who invented this map." Harry answered evasively. "See how there are little labelled dots of people wandering around? From my experience, the map doesn't lie, so if there were someone with an invisibility cloak or disguised by polyjuice potion, it would tell you the truth. It's pretty useful."

Neville and Luna stared at the map. "There's Dumbledore. Look." Luna pointed out. "He's in the hallway outside the transfiguration classroom."

"Oh. There's McGonagall too." Neville said excitedly. "I could watch this for years! There's so much I didn't know! Is that a secret passage?" he asked, pointing it out to Harry.

"Yeah, that one is apparently caved in though. This one is the most useful." He told them, pointing. "It comes out right in the basement store room of Honeyduke's sweet shop." He moved his hand over to point to the whomping willow out on the grounds. "This passage is good too, but you have to know how to freeze the tree, otherwise you might get hurt." He didn't mention that the last time he'd been down there, it had been in third year, when he had first met Sirius.

"I don't see any new teachers here." Luna said wistfully after they had quite thoroughly analyzed the parchment. "Maybe they know how to keep themselves off the map."

Harry thought it was highly unlikely, and was about to comment, when Ron, Hermione and Ginny returned from their prefect meeting.

"I was just showing them the Marauder's map." Harry explained after they exchanged greetings.

"And how are our old friends Moony, Padfoot and Prongs today?" Ron asked.

"What about Wormtail?" Luna asked, and everyone except for Neville ignored her. Neville obviously thought Harry was going to answer her question, but Harry wanted change the subject.

"They won't tell us who the new Defense teacher is going to be." Harry answered, shaking his head.

"Maybe he or she just hasn't arrived yet. We can check again later." Hermione waved her hand at the map. "Besides, it's not like we won't find out soon enough. If the new one is at all like Umbridge, I'm dropping the class. To heck with my future."

Everyone stared at her in amazement.

"Hermione?" Ron asked. "Did I just hear you say 'to heck with my future?'"

"Yes, I did. What about it? That woman was a hag."

"Umm... right." Harry searched his mind for another subject.

"So how was the prefect meeting?"

Ginny huffed. "The other fifth year prefect is Colin Creevey. Don't worry, I told him there's no way I'm posing for a picture."

Harry laughed. He'd certainly been a focus for Colin's camera often enough to know what it felt like.

"So you have to patrol the halls then?"

"Yeah. Colin and my shift is Monday nights until one-thirty in the morning. Are they expecting us to ever get any sleep?"

"What about you guys?" Harry asked Ron and Hermione.

"Thursdays." Ron answered.

"I almost pity the poor Slytherins who have Friday night watch." Hermione giggled.

"Let me sense your thoughts." Harry put his fingers to his temples, and pressed his eyes shut. "Malfoy and Parkinson? Were they being punished for their involvement in the inquisitorial squad?

"What do you know, Harry! Maybe you should have gotten a pass in Divination after all?" Ron laughed.

"Wait, I'm getting more vibes!... Not only are they going to be forced to miss out on Friday night Slytherin common room parties, they're going to need a teacher supervisor!"

"Wow! And I thought Divination was an imprecise art!" Hermione smirked at Harry, and the entire cabin broke out into laughter.

The moment was interrupted when the witch that pushed the sweet trolley went past, and the compartment nearly exploded with wrappers, chocolate frog cards, and peanut-butter slugs. Harry had bought a huge pile of treats and was sharing it between all of them. While they ate, he pulled out his ward beads, and with their permission, cast four more warding spells. He gave the orange bead to Ron, and the green bead to Hermione.

Last of all, he zigzagged Ginny's ward onto the red bead. While everyone else had just taken his explanation that he had read about them, and that was why he could do the spell easily,Ginny gave him what might be construed as a very knowing look.

Harry had the uncomfortable feeling that Ginny knew more about his summer than she should have.

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A/N: I'm sorry, I know Neville already found out about the map in the fifth book, but I'm assuming it was just a sort of fleeting notice that he just didn't bother to log into his brain properly.


	9. A Meeting With Mark

A/N: I know I said I'd be posting four chapters a week, but hey. I can't help it. I'm Canadian, and it's our Thanksgiving this weekend. I'm off to spend some time with family in a place that doesn't even have a road, much less any sort of internet connection. I promise that I will be updating again soon, but family comes first. (Sounds a little Weasley-like doesn't it?) 

Disclaimer: JK Rowling deserves only the best after creating such intense characters. (Did she have to go and kill off Sirius though? I thought he was too much of a hottie to die!!!)

**Chapter Nine - **

**A Meeting With Mark**

The Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade station and everyone clambered off quickly, trying to get to the front carriages, which were to take them to Hogwarts' gates. Harry eyed the ghostly winged black horses that stood quietly in their harnesses while he loaded his trunk onto one of the middle ones.

Thestrals were only visible to people who had seen death. And Harry had seen more death than most. The sight of these creatures sent a shiver down Harry's spine.

They were not so much an omen of death as some people made them out to be, but they did unintentionally make Harry replay all of the deaths he had ever witnessed in his mind. Luckily none of the others except Neville had been present when Sirius went through the veil, so they were still innocently staring into invisible space, and asking him questions about what the thestrals were doing. Neville and Luna had been able to see them before Sirius' death, so they remained silent. They were probably thinking their own dark thoughts.

Harry, Ron, Neville and Hermione got their carriage together, and Ginny and Luna took one with a couple of other fifth years. The group reassembled when they finally arrived at the school's front gates.

They all trooped into the great hall, and all but Luna plunked themselves down at the long Gryffindor table, waiting for the new first-years and their sorting. She floated over to the Ravenclaw table, and sat quietly between two other fifth-year girls, who both turned their noses up at her, and rudely moved a few inches away to either side.

Harry looked up at the professor's long table near the front of the room, and was surprised to see that Firenze, the Centaur who had taught divination briefly last year was still there. Harry was even more flabbergasted when he looked further over, and there sat professor Sybill Trelawney. She was the regular divination teacher, who had supposedly been sacked by the ever-annoying Umbridge last year.

"Hey, Ron! What do you think she's doing here?" Harry asked in a whisper. "I thought she would have gone!"

"Not only that, but doesn't she normally stay secluded in her tower for the start of school feast?" Ron replied with a cynical look on his face. "You would have thought she felt the outside world clouding her inner eye!"

Trelawney was swaying contentedly in her chair, and when Harry looked a closer, he could see that her nose was a little red and her smile was more dreamy than usual.

"She's drunk!" Harry said, a little too loudly, and he hurried to look as though he had not said anything when a few faces turned to stare.

Last year, Trelawney had faced quite a few unneeded pressures, starting with Professor Umbridge and all of her 'inquisitorial squad' led by Draco Malfoy and his cronies. After all of that harassment, professor Trelawney seemed to have traded in her mysterious ways for a bottle of Sherry. It looked as though she had yet to give up the stress-related habit.

Nearly everyone in the vicinity who had heard Harry's comment -which was all of the sixth-year Gryffindors- were now staring unabashedly at Trelawney, since Ron had not had the decency not to point out who Harry was talking about. Most were snickering. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were frowning and glaring at everyone with expressions of disgust, then at Trelawney with deep pity.

The school settled down as the frightened-looking first-years trundled in following a very haughty professor McGonagall.

She walked immediately to the dais at the front of the room, where the sorting hat sat on a small three-legged stool.

Once they had all grouped at the base of the dais, McGonagall paused and looked patiently at the hat.

A rip in the brim opened, and the hat began to sing.

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_I am the sorting hat_

_Hear that I roar_

_The name of your home_

_For seven years or more_

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_For Ravenclaw the wise_

_Stayed fourty and ten_

_She kept many a book_

_In the library den_

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_Busiest Hufflepuff_

_She worked thirty years_

_She treated all equal_

_And soothed student fears_

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_Gryffindor the brave_

_He stayed twenty-six_

_By the time that he left_

_He'd a war to go fix_

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_Alas for Shrewd Slytherin_

_He stayed least of all_

_Just twelve powerful years_

_In this magical hall_

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_Slytherin warred with Gryiffindor_

_Hufflepuff consoled_

_Ravenclaw wrote the whole story _

_Lost in times that were old_

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_So place me now_

_On top of your head_

_My task is to sort_

_Then I'll let you be fed._

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The hat took a sort of bow, and the students all clapped politely.

"Odd sort of song, that one..." Ron commented.

Harry wondered if it were true that Rowena Ravenclaw had written the whole story of the four founders down somewhere. It definitely wasn't in 'Hogwarts; A History', since just to shut Hermione up, he and Ron had finally read the book. Nowhere did it have any mention of the personal lives of the founders, or even how long they had stayed at the school to teach.

If Ravenclaw had written something, then where was her book? He might like to read it. The sorting hat seemed to think that the book had been lost. He saw Hermione's eyes light up, as if she had a new quest to fulfill, and Harry knew it wouldn't be long before she'd be quoting the book to him.

In a way, Harry wondered if the sorting hat wasn't issuing a sort of trial. To see if any of the students knew what he was talking about, or if they were curious enough to look the book up. It seemed to have piqued a bit of interest at the Ravenclaw table, since they were all whispering excitedly.

As the noise died down, McGonagall picked up her list of student names, and said to the small crowd before her, "When I call your names, please come to the stool, and put on the sorting hat. When you have been sorted, please take a seat at the table that cheers the loudest."

Everyone chuckled. It was a time-honoured tradition to cheer on ones new house-mates, but no one had bothered to put it that way before.

"Addams, Cecilia." Professor McGonagall called out, and a small girl with long blonde braids on either side of her head nearly tripped on her way up to the stool.

The hat was placed on her head, and one moment later the brim opened wide... "HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat shouted, and the table one over from Gryffindor howled and stomped their feet in appreciation.

Cecilia let out a heavy breath in relief, and she went and sat with her house.

"Billows, Daniel."

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Boyd, Petunia."

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Coombs, Matthew."

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Evans, Mark."

Harry started at the name, and watched as a young boy with light brown hair crept up the dais, his nerves making him shake slightly.

"I know him!" Harry whispered to Hermione. "He lives in my neighbourhood!"

"Really?"

They waited for a moment in silence, while the hat made its decision.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry clapped as loudly as he could. As Mark Evans walked down to their table, Harry spoke over the din. "Yeah! He's another one of Dudley's favorite punchbags! I don't know him well. I don't think he talks much."

The applause at the Gryffindor table died down, and they sat back to watch the group of first-years dwindle down until only "Young, Phoebe" was left, and she was sorted into Ravenclaw.

Dumbledore clapped politely, and rose from his seat. "My speeches will save quite well for later. I'm hungry. Let's eat!" The plates filled with food before everyone's eyes, and the feast began. Harry stuffed a torn off piece of bread into his mouth, and pulled away from the bench.

"I'll be right back." He jogged along the line of students all filling their mouths with food, until he arrived at the end where the first-years sat. He tapped Mark Evans on the shoulder, and Mark dropped a piece of chicken onto his lap in surprise.

"Harry Potter?" he asked in confusion. "What are you doing here?"

"I go to school here." Harry responded unnecessarily, smiling at the bewilderment written on the younger boy's face. "How are you Mark?"

Mark didn't answer him. "You're a wizard? I thought... aren't you supposed to go to St. Brutus' Secure Center or something?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "No, that's my aunt and uncle's lie they've told everyone to keep people as far away from me as possible. They don't like magic."

"I'm sorry." Mark looked uncomfortable. "My parents told my relatives I had to go to a remedial school because I was _slow_." He said the last word with obvious distaste.

Harry patted the young boy on the shoulder. "I guess we've got a lot in common. We should team up back at home, you and I. With us being stupid _and _violent, surely we could take the neighbourhood by storm!"

Mark smiled. "I don't think that would phase Dudley one bit. He's got enough stupidity and violence to put anyone else to shame."

Harry laughed. "He does seem to have a thicker than usual skull doesn't he? I've been threatening him for the last five years with a bit of accidental magic."

Mark laughed too, and looked over at his new first-year friends. He almost did a double-take at the looks of fear, amazement, reverence, and confusion with which they were all staring at Harry. They were each hanging on his every word.

Mark decided to try to introduce Harry anyhow. Harry nodded to each one as he heard their names, but they didn't shake the looks in their eyes, and they didn't nod back.

"Why are they looking at you like that?" Mark whispered to Harry.

"They're looking at my scar." Harry answered honestly. "I'll tell you more about it later... or maybe you'll hear something about it sooner than that. It's not exactly a secret." He said, eyeing the curly-haired blond girl who had been Malfoy's victim at Kings Cross. She sat next to Mark and looked as if she would explode if she didn't tell him exactly who it was he was talking to in the next three seconds.

Harry nodded to Mark, and beat a hasty retreat, calling over his shoulder, "If you need anything, you can ask me or my friends. They're the sixth-year prefects. See you!"

Harry returned to his spot with the rest of the sixth-years, and sat back down next to Hermione. He briefly looked back at the first-years, and saw them chatting animatedly all at once to Mark, whose eyes were widening further and further with every word. Mark looked over at Harry once, and his eyes flicked away when he saw that Harry was watching him.

Ron, on Hermione's other side swallowed hard, and asked, "You thinking about recruiting him or something?"

Harry started to shake his head, but stopped. "Actually, that's not a bad idea. I'd like to have a meeting as soon as possible, and get everyone else to pinky swear to me. It couldn't really hurt to have him tag along."

"Why not tonight?" Hermione suggested. "We've got a bit of time after the feast before curfew."

Harry reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small round gold coin. He pulled out his wand as inconspicuously as possible, and touched the coin.

Both Hermione and Ron reached down, and touched their pockets. Ginny, Neville, Dean, Seamus, Colin Creevey, Lavender and Parvati, having not heard the conversation, reached down into their pockets and pulled out their matching coins. They all looked up at Harry and nodded. Harry saw similar looks being thrown at him from the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, and he nodded back to them too. He carefully avoided direct eye contact with Cho Chang and Marietta Edgecombe, but he certainly couldn't tell them not to come now. He figured he would make it their decision. If they didn't show up, then he would just ask them politely to pinky swear with him not to reveal any of the secrets.

He was immensely proud of the fact that everyone seemed to have kept their fake coins nearby. It made him feel like they had been waiting with anticipation for his decision to start up the DA again.His head filled with a contented buzzing at the thought.

After the pudding had been consumed, Dumbledore stood and made his usual speeches about not going into the forbidden forest and the new list of banned objects on Filch, the caretaker's, door. He did not, however introduce any new teachers, or let them know what new teacher was missing. This was odd, because he had told Harry that they had a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and Harry could see no one who looked like they filled the requirements.

Harry jumped up with Ron, Hermione, Ginny and the other fifth-year prefect, Colin, to where the first-years sat. Harry rushed, and got there first.

"Mark, can I talk to you?" Harry asked quickly.

"Sure Harry." Harry noted that Mark was suddenly looking very wide-eyed and shy around him. Obviously his friends had told him a thing or two about Harry's exploits and about his famous scar.

"Can I trust you not to say anything if I tell you a secret?"

Mark's eyes widened even further, and he nodded serenely.

"Good. Meet me in the Gryffindor common room in a few minutes, after the others have gone up to bed. I'll tell you then." Harry backed away, just as Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Colin appeared.

Harry followed the straggly group of prefects and first-years up to the common room, and moved past them up to his dormitory while Ginny and Colin talked the group through the tour of the common room. Nearly all of Gryffindor went on up to their new dorms to get an early night, but Mark and a few other older students remained behind.

When Harry returned, he pulled Mark aside. "I have to ask you if you know about the current situation in the wizarding world."

"Well," Mark began, "some of my friends kind of filled me in, and they warned my parents a month ago that the wizarding world is at war in my letter..."

"Are you willing to break a few rules in order to learn the magic you need to protect yourself?" Harry asked in a whisper.

Mark nodded, slightly nervously.

"Good, follow us."

Hermione, Ron, Neville, Ginny, Dean, Seamus, Parvati, Lavender, and one or two others in the older and younger grades followed one by one, trying to look inconspicuous. Harry pulled out a ragged piece of parchment, and eyed it critically. He checked his watch before turning and whispering to the group behind him.

"We have only got a total of thirty-five minutes before curfew, I suggest we make the most of it."

Many of them nodded. Harry checked the map, and pushed the portrait of the fat-lady open.

Mark looked confused, but stayed silent as Harry led the group through the halls to the seventh floor. He looked at the parchment once more to make sure that the only people coming were other members of the DA, and he began to pace.

"What's happening?" Mark whispered to Ron.

Ron shushed him. "Not yet."

A door appeared in the wall behind Harry, and he rushed to get it open, and watched the map as students filed in after him.

The room of requirement was just as it had been the year before.

Absolutely perfect.

All of the members grabbed cushions, and plunked themselves down on the yellow brick floor, some of them taking a book or two down from one of the shelves and spent a few minutes reading. Harry stayed standing until everyone who should be there had arrived. He noticed that both Cho and Marietta had come, and he nodded politely to them, slightly pleased that they didn't completely hate him now. Marietta was looking very nervous, but she seemed to have resigned herself to being a part of the group. Harry's nod of greeting made her relax a little, but she still held herself ramrod straight as if she thought someone might hex her or force her to leave.

"I wasn't able to tell anyone this until now, and this is something that we're only allowed to talk about in this room from now on. I wanted you all to know that I was given permission to practice defensive magic over the summer holidays, starting on my sixteenth birthday."

Almost everyone there looked amazed. Ginny however, laughed. "I knew it!" she giggled.

Harry looked at her, confused. "You knew?"

"I almost walked into your little session with professor Lupin one morning, and I stopped to listen. I didn't mean to eavesdrop and I'm sorry, but I just couldn't figure out at first what was going on. He was showing you how to levitate or something. Anyway, I didn't stay long, but I figured you must have gotten some special permission from the ministry and weren't allowed to tell us."

Harry was bewildered by Ginny's strangely perceptive nature, and her willingness to remain silent until Harry was ready to tell. It was something he had never noticed about her before. He shook his head to get himself back on track. Many of the other students who hadn't known where Harry had spent the last seven weeks of his summer were looking at Ginny thoughtfully. Many of them were smirking.

"You spent the summer with Professor Lupin?" Dennis Creevey asked.

"Among others." Harry answered evasively. "He was a friend of my parents' years ago. Anyhow, I was allowed to attempt quite a few interesting things, so I already have a pretty big repertoire of jinxes and things I thought we should all learn."

Harry peeked over at Mark, who was looking more than a little confused.

"First, I'd like to introduce a new member to our group, and after that I'd like to talk about the importance of secrecy. Mark." He turned to their newest member. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to explain more about this group before, but we can't afford any slip-ups where other people can overhear. It's happened before, and it got us into heaps of trouble.

"This is a defense group we started last year in the hopes that everyone involved would learn how to defend themselves against magical attack if ever the case may arise. It was illegal for us to start this group last year, and even though that law has been since rescinded, I'd rather keep this as quiet as possible. This is still a secret society, attended only by those specifically invited, and we do not mention it outside this room."

Harry saw Mark gulp. "If you decide not to join, I must still have a promise from you that you will not reveal the nature of our meeting tonight to anyone, be it teacher or student."

Mark nodded nervously. "It sounds like a good idea, but don't we have some Defense training in class?" he said in a near whisper.

"I'm not certain of this year, but the teachers in that subject tend to be a little less than what we truly need. Once we had a good one, Professor Lupin, but none of them have lasted more than a year. We've had quite a stunted education in that respect."

"We think the job is cursed." Said Ron.

Seamus laughed. "Let's see if this is right. In our time here, one teacher died and turned to ash. One lost his memory." Ron blushed as he said this, remembering just how it was that professor Lockhart had lost his memory. "One quit after being forced to admit that he was a werewolf. One was a Death-Eater in disguise and got his soul sucked out of his body by a dementor. And the last one was an evil toad from the ministry, who has been in St. Mungo's in a near trance-like state ever since her run-in with a herd of centaurs in the Forbidden Forest. That cover them all?" he asked.

Harry smiled at Mark's pale face. "We don't know who Dumbledore has picked for the job this time, but I have the feeling that this year's class isn't going to be all that different. Dumbledore's been having a really hard time convincing anyone that the job's safe to take."

"All right," said Mark tentatively, "I'll join."

Harry smiled. "Pinky-swear that you promise not to reveal the location or the secret of our meetings. Promise that you will refer to us only as the DA outside of this room, and only to other members."

Mark locked his pinky with Harry's and they shook on it.

"Mark Evans, Welcome to Dumbledore's Army."

Mark's face paled. "Are we an Army?" he asked in a squeak.

Giggling laughter filled the room.

"Not really, it was supposed to be a slur against the Ministry of Magic. They were trying to keep Dumbledore from taking over Minister Fudge's job. They thought he would build an army of students to go against the Ministry. Dumbledore didn't organize this group, nor does he apparently have any intentions to usurp the minister. We're not really against the ministry, but we were sort of trying to show that we supported him with the name."

Mark nodded, still with eyes like saucers.

"Right, back to the issue at hand, I've been able to practice quite a few new jinxes and things, but I thought I'd start by getting into Wandless and Soundless magic with the more advanced group and begin by teaching Mark some of the basics like 'lumos', and 'expelliarmus'. We can actually work as a whole group right now, but I might get some of the people who catch on faster to work with our beginner, so I can help the advanced group."

"You can do wandless magic?" Hermione cut in looking surprised.

Harry put his wand down on the shelf next to him, thought really hard about how excited and happy he was to be back at school, and said "Lumos."

The wand tip lit up, and quite a few people gasped.

"This is just the beginning step for wandless magic, as it still uses a wand, but you aren't connected with it. Later, we'll go more in depth with this, and do things like this."

Harry walked away from the shelf, and stood across the room. "Accio, wand."

The wand flew into his outstretched hand, and he took it and placed it back on another bookshelf. "Or we'll do things that don't have anything to do with a wand at all, like this."

Harry thought hard about Sirius, and the pensieve he had received from both him and Remus for his birthday. He felt love wash though him, and the power that accompanied it made him suddenly decide to try something a little different. "Wingardium Leviosa." Harry said, stiffening his spine and pointing his fingers at his own feet. He lifted up off the yellow brick floor, and hovered for a moment, while the group gasped.

Harry smiled down at the group of students below him. "Obviously, I haven't done this version of the levitating charm with you yet, but we'll get to it, and maybe some people could try it wandless like this."

Harry's feet touched down again, and he smiled, while the rest of the group stared at him in amazement. "Obviously if you get into a scrape and lose your wand, you don't want to be completely defenseless." People around the room nodded eagerly. "Everyone -except Mark- put your wands down somewhere, and think really hard about a time you felt some intense emotion. It can be love, or sadness or even intense anger –some of you might want to try and think about Umbridge last year." Twitttering vengeful laughter rolled through the group at this. "Once you have that emotion in your head, feel it moving out to the fingers of your wand hand. Sometimes it helps to close your eyes."

Harry saw several people close their eyes. He waited for a moment while people got comfortable. Mark was staring at the group of students, looking enraptured.

"If you can feel the power of the emotion almost tingling in your fingers, then why use a wand?" Harry asked them. "If you're feeling so intense about it, then why should you have to use a stick of wood to channel that power? Try and light the tip."

The murmurs of "Lumos" went though the room, and Harry smiled when he saw Hermione's wand light up. Mark was staring at it in amazement. Harry could see he was itching to try the charm himself.

A loud pop came from one side of the classroom, and Harry had to shield his eyes as a white light suddenly seemed to overwhelm the whole class.

"Sorry." Neville muttered, grabbing his wand, and quickly extinguishing the searchlight that had just errupted from it.

"Right." Harry said. "Better work on toning that down Neville. It's pretty good, but you're really putting your all into it. It doesn't need that sort of power yet."

"Right." He answered blushing, but grinning slightly all the same.

"Hermione, could you help Mark with the lumos spell? I'm going to work with the others. Oh, and he should have a coin for himself if you can manage it."

"That shouldn't be a problem. I'll explain it to him." Hermione beamed as bright as Neville's wand just had, and moved over to Mark's side.

"Okay, we're going to try that again." Harry explained. "The most important thing in this is that we don't get discouraged or frustrated. It can affect the power levels, so try and stay positive. Try switching your emotions to see which ones work the best for you."

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The meeting went by incredibly quickly, and Harry had to carefully watch the Marauder's map he carried with him, just to make sure people were getting back to their dorms safely. The little named dots scurried about until all of them had disappeared into dormitories. Harry sighed with relief.

"Harry, that was amazing!" Hermione puffed, sounding out of breath, and she slumped into a tall winged armchair in the now empty common room.

"Yeah mate!" Ron agreed. "You were saying all that stuff about not getting disappointed about not having it perfect, and I just _knew_ that I'd be able to do it if I just kept trying. As soon as I thought that, My wand lit up! It was awesome!"

Harry had been particularily impressed with Neville's wandless magic. After five years of using a wand that didn't work with him very well, Neville had obviously been forced to channel some of his magic wandless without even realizing it. It was impressive to see. He was still having a bit of difficulty with soundless magic, but Harry was certain that it was only because of his low confidence levels. He would almost certainly be able to pick it up very quickly, especially if he were to realize how much he could now do with this new wand. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourselves." Harry smiled. "I thought that part of things might be pretty fun."

"Harry," Ron suddenly looked worried, "You seem to have a pretty good grasp of all of this wandless and soundless stuff... How'd you learn it so quickly if you've only been able to do magic since your birthday? I mean... Some of those things you showed us were pretty incredible..."

Harry shrugged. "I guess I just feel that I need to learn quickly, so I just...do."

Hermione looked as though she wanted to say something. Harry waited until she was ready. "It's just that you've... changed quite a bit from last year. To be honest, I'm a little surprised." She trailed off.

"I was pretty stupid to you guys last year." Harry mumbled, looking away. "I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize, you were angry. I can understand that." Ron waved his hand to brush off Harry's actions of the last year. "You're just acting very..." he waved his hand in a circle, searching for the correct word.

"Wise." Hermione finished for him. Ron nodded at her.

Harry didn't know what they were getting at, so he remained silent. He was both pleased and upset that his friends had come to this conclusion about him. Pleased because it meant he was finally able to control his temper, and upset because he knew that same temper was always just simmering below the surface. It made him a little sad to think that he could never let his anger out again for fear of hurting someone. Still, having control over his own actions was turning out to be as much a blessing as a curse, so he really didn't want to go back.

"It's a little weird, you know to be seeing you with the temperament of a Guru or something. It doesn't seem much like... well... like you." Hermione said.

Harry nodded sagely, as if to prove their point. "I'll try to be a little angrier and more emotional around you two, okay?" He said laughingly. The joke was halfhearted, but he could see that neither Hermione or Ron thought so.

"See, that's what I'm talking about!" Ron said pointedly. "The old Harry would have bitten our heads off as if he thought we were insulting him or something!"

"Would you like me to bite your heads off?"

Hermione and Ron began to shake their heads vigorously, pretending to look terrified. "No! not at all!" Hermione snorted.

Ron sighed. "I guess I just wanted to point it out." He sat back, looking suddenly very sobered. "We're a little worried."

Harry nodded, and looked at his feet. "I'll talk to you guys. I really want to, but I'm not ready yet. Give me a bit more time."

Ron slapped Harry's shoulder. "We'll be here when you need us."

Hermione nodded in agreement.

"Thanks. I think I'll head off to bed." Harry said, and wandered up to his dormitory, clutching the Marauder's map.

"Guru?" Said Ron quietly to Hermione from behind him, "What's that?"


	10. Professor Trelawney

A/N: A pox on all of those people who have given me bad reviews. (which is no one, so far, so don't sweat it.) Thank you everyone! (PLEASE tell me how to keep paragraph spacing in the formatting. I still can't figure it out!)

Disclaimer: I would never dream of taking the rights for this story. I'm doing it all just for the pure pleasure of seeing things unfold the way I want them to.

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**Chapter Ten - **

**Professor Trelawney**

The next morning at breakfast, Ginny handed Harry his new schedule, and sat down next to him to peruse hers.

Harry smiled at her, even though she didn't see it, and looked down at the parchment he held.

He very nearly had a heart attack.

"Why, may I ask, are we having our Defense Against the Dark Arts class in the divination tower?"

Ron gasped, and snatched up his own timetable to confirm Harry's question. "No way!" He said wide-eyed. "They wouldn't do that to us. Not this year..." He trailed off.

"Maybe Trelawney's just being nice and letting the new Defense teacher take her classroom for awhile." Harry said hopefully.

Ron latched on to this hope with every bit of strength he had. "That's probably right. She's just being helpful."

"I don't think so." Interrupted Hermione skeptically. "Just because Firenze has to stay on the first floor, doesn't mean that professor Trelawney isn't teaching in her own classroom this year. It's not like they would be sharing a classroom or anything."

"Hermione!" whined Ron. "Don't you dare tell me Trelawney is the one teaching us Defense! And definitely not our first class! I can't see that woman today!" Ron lowered his head to the tabletop, and began to bang his forehead roughly on the surface.

"Well, it makes sense doesn't it?" Hermione shook her head at her timetable.

Harry growled in frustration. "A little too much sense. I wonder why she isn't using our regular defense classroom?"

"Maybe she just wants to teach in a comfortable place?" Hermione suggested.

"At least she isn't supposed to be teaching us about stupid pointless tarot readings or telling us about how we're going to kick the bucket soon." Ron said hopefully, plunking his elbow solidly on the table to prop his chin up with his palm.

Harry knotted his hands into his scruffy hair over his ears in frustration. "You weren't the one she kept making those predictions about."

Hermione laughed nervously. "You mean she didn't stop saying things like that after I pointed out to her that she was an idiot? There's no way she's letting me into any class of hers after what I said to her."

Ron looked angry. "Well, she's the one who said she had never seen anyone as 'hopelessly mundane' as you. That in itself should be proof enough that she hasn't a clue what she's talking about."

Hermione blushed, and mumbled "Thanks Ron."

Ron blushed too, and looked at Harry with the terrified expression that clearly stated he had not intended that sentence to have so much meaning.

Harry smiled, and decided a change of subject was in order.

"I never asked you guys before, but what elective class did you choose?" Harry tried to be nonchalant, but he was really hoping that one of them or both would be in the same class as him.

"Media." Said Hermione bluntly. "I wanted to get the teacher's opinion of House-elf-enslavement, and it could help us solve some of the problems we've had with Skeeter and some of the other reporters at the Daily prophet. I also thought the art thing could be kind of nice." She bit into her toast, and chewed thoughtfully.

Ron looked a little disappointed as he said, "I chose Philosophy of Magic."

"Me too." Said Harry with a sigh of relief.

"That would have been my second choice, If I had been allowed one." Hermione said, looking slightly annoyed that she hadn't been given the option. "It sounds fascinating! Being able to talk about Dark and Light magical arts and all of those grey areas in between!" She sighed. "You'll have to tell me everything that the professor says."

Harry looked at his schedule. "We don't have it until Wednesday... But it looks as though it's happening in the Arithmancy classroom. Maybe it's taught by the same teacher?"

Hermione grinned. "Maybe I can just set aside some time to talk with professor Vector. If she's teaching the class, I'm sure she wouldn't mind me asking her a few questions about it."

"I kind of figured I should know a lot of the things she says. I mean... What with Voldmort being on my tail all the time, the more I know about all of that stuff the better..." Harry trailed off. He hoped he hadn't just said too much. He really didn't want to talk about the prophecy just yet, and if Ron and Hermione were at all suspicious, they would soon find out one way or another.

"I know, mate." Said Ron. "That's why I decided to take the class too. It didn't look all that appealing on my OWL form, but it seemed like it could be pretty useful."

Ron and Hermione broke out into a conversation about how the third choice on their OWL form – Magical Music – sounded like too much of a bird course.

Harry let out a breath of relief. By the looks on their faces, his friends remained completely oblivious. He thought back for a moment to the first Order meeting he had witnessed. At the time, he had been preoccupied with Percy's attack, but he remembered something that Dumbledore had said about Harry and his friends being detectives in their own right. At the moment, he couldn't see it, but he knew it wouldn't last. He had to tell them of the Prophecy, and soon, or else they would find out on their own, and they would be asking Harry why he didn't trust them enough to tell, then they would hate him for not trusting. It needed to be told before the whole thing blew up in his face.

The conversation about magical music class had somehow morphed into an argument. Ron said he loved the newest song by the 'Weird Sisters', and Hermione responded that they were just perpetuating the stereotype of brainless rocker witches and didn't have any sort of personal message to send out like a proper musical group.

Ron seemed to have noticed Harry's inattention at the breakfast table, but he said nothing. The argument he was having with Hermione required all of his energy.

Hermione looked at her watch, and gasped. "We're going to be late for Defense if we don't hurry up!"

"I think I'd like to be late today." Ron said wistfully looking at the half-finished plate of food in front of him.

Hermione grabbed his arm, and dragged him off the bench. "Just because you don't like the idea of that woman teaching you again, doesn't give you the right to slack off. I don't like it either, but I am determined to get a good mark in this class."

Harry grabbed a last piece of toast for himself, and one for the still hungry-looking Ron.

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In the hallway below the trapdoor entrance to the Divination tower, all the sixth-year Gryffindors stood waiting with perplexed looks on their faces.

The only ones who looked even remotely excited were Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, both of whom had been absolutely enthralled by professor Trelawney's Divination classes.

The trapdoor opened just as Ron, Harry and Hermione arrived, and the silver ladder descended to the floor dramatically.

"Welcome." Said the mystical voice of professor Trelawney as everyone climbed in and took a look around.

The classroom had changed somewhat since the last time Harry had been there. Where before, there had been a mishmash of wingbacked armchairs and pouffes grouped around small circular tables, there was now only pouffes stuffed into corners and along the edges of the walls. A brand new soft woven area rug covered the hardwood floor in the middle of the room.

The smell of incense still clogged nasal cavities and a haze of purple smoke still rolled about the ceiling. Harry could see a cupboard filled with crystal balls, tea-cups, tarot decks and such over near the window, as though Trelawney hadn't yet given up the hope that she might go back to teaching the art of divining people's futures.

Trelawney herself stood glitteringly in a small beam of sunlight that peeked through the closed curtains. She looked more grasshopper-like than ever with an emerald green shawl, and a long flowing brown dress.

Trelawney sniffed disapprovingly as she saw Hermione climb out of the trapdoor, but Hermione ignored her, and sauntered over to the pouffe next to Ron and Harry.

"This year, I have been given the _honour_," Trelawney said the word with distaste, "Of teaching you all how to smack each other over the heads with great big clubs."

Harry gaped. What _was_ this woman doing here?

"I would like to make it clear that I hold no respect whatsoever for violence of any kind, and as far as I am concerned, any and all things taught in this class should never be used under any circumstance."

Harry looked over at Ron and Hermione, and he was even more surprised to see that although Ron looked just as stupified as Harry felt, Hermione was giggling at what Trelawney had said.

"This year I have been given permission to teach those of you who are inclined towards violence and attacks how to control yourselves when it comes to these disgusting displays of brutality."

Hermione obviously couldn't hold in her laughter any more, and let out a loud, "Ha!"

Trelawney looked at her imposingly. "If I have been correct these past few years, Miss Granger, in my assessments of your future and your personality, You haven't much longer to be so uppity. I would listen closely to my words, were I you."

Hermione was able to subdue her laughter for a moment, until professor Trelawney had turned her back, and Hermione doubled over with silent laughter once more.

Throughout the entire class, Trelawney lectured them on the importance of staying subdued in times of attack. Hermione, Ron and Harry all giggled at her, alternately stuffing their faces into the sides of their pouffes to quiet the giggling and to avoid looking each other directly in the eyes. Once or twice, during controlled silences, they caught looks from one another, and the giggling would tear out of them once more.

At one point, when Harry and Ron had been giggling into their hands, Trelawney noticed, and called out. "Mister Potter! You above all people should be listening to my lectures!"

Harry gathered himself together, thinking it highly unfair that she should target him alone when Ron was still chuckling beneath his breath with his face screwed up to conceal the laughter as best he could, but he stared back at her intently. "Tell me professor, what would you do if Voldemort himself walked up to you and said he was going to kill you?"

Trelawney flinched at the mention of the name, but she stared back at Harry defiantly. "I would tell him what I thought of his vile practices, then I would let him kill me."

Harry was surprised. He hadn't thought Trelawney would have had the courage to even open her mouth to say anything under those circumstances. He wasn't sure if he could honestly trust her when she said that was what she would do. She had obviously never experienced any real danger. "And why would you do that, rather than fighting him?"

"Fighting evil in the physical world never seems to accomplish much. The only thing I could do against You-know-who is attack his sense of dignity and appeal to his goodness. There is nothing else to be done."

Harry saw Parvati and Lavender nodding in the background, staring at professor Trelawney reverently.

"What if I told you that Voldemort has no sense of dignity, and no goodness within him?" Harry asked daringly.

Trelawney eyed Harry worriedly. "Everyone has an innate goodness. We just have to find out what it is. Nonetheless, I would have died for a good cause."

Harry let the subject drop. He could see that he was never going to get through to the woman, so he remained silent.

Parvati and Lavender sighed loudly across the room, and Harry had the horrible feeling that he had just lost two members of his DA to some sort of misplaced ideas of martyrdom.

He ended up staying late with Ron and Hermione as Trelawney had decided they needed a talking to regarding the importance of listening closely.

"If I have to see that sort of barbaric display of outright hostility again, I will be forced to give you all detentions." She said hotly, lighting up a stick of purple incense on her desk. "As it is, I must address the issue to your head of house." Trelawney plunked herself down into the chair behind her desk, and nodded to the group. "You are excused." She leaned back in her chair and began to hum. It looked like she thought she was meditating. Harry had never used this particular technique for meditation before, and he thought it made her look a bit rediculous.

Harry, Ron and Hermione all bit their lips not daring to look at each other again for fear of breaking down into helpless giggles.

As they turned away, Harry heard her voice return in a way he had never wanted to hear again. It was in a low croak very unlike her normal wistful sighing tones.

"_When Light and Dark next meet, even the wisest of us all cannot sever the link they hold..." _

They spun back to see that she had gone stiff in her seat, and her eyes rolled up into the back of her head so all they could see through her glasses was white, hugely magnified. She looked to be having a small seizure.

"_Interference may prove costly, and light must choose the price."_

Harry looked over to Ron and Hermione's shocked faces, and without commenting, quickly pushed them towards the trapdoor, noticing that Trelawney's rant seemed to be finished. 

"You've seen that happen to her before, haven't you?" Ron asked Harry in a whisper once they had reached the bottom. "It was just like after your third-year exam right?"

Harry nodded. He didn't feel all that keen on discussing it.

"That was a real prophecy back then too wasn't it?" Hermione asked. "Something about Wormtail returning to reawaken his master?"

Harry nodded again.

Ron eyed him suspiciously. "Was this one about you Harry?"

This time Harry didn't answer. To be honest, there was no way of knowing who the prophecy had been about. But what with the other two prophecies Harry had heard from that woman, he couldn't very well doubt that this one had also been about him and Voldemort.

Harry didn't say a single word about the newest of Trelawney's predictions until lunch was over and the three of them were heading towards the transfiguration classroom.

As it was, Ron and Hermione had been giving him odd looks, and Harry was starting to get a little fidgety due to their concern. He knew that soon he would become uncontrollably angry if they didn't stop. Being angry again was unacceptable. He was enjoying the new grown up version of Harry a little too much.

"Trelawney has more ability as a seer than a lot of people give her credit for." He finally muttered.

"Oh, so you're going to tell us about it now?" asked Hermione, sounding slightly sarcastic.

Ron rolled his eyes. "It's not that he keeps secrets from us intentionally, Hermione!" He looked at Harry, as if to make sure he wasn't feeling offended.

Harry shrugged. "Sometimes I just need to think things through a little bit." He sighed. "There's more to Trelawney than just that pile of rubbish she spouts off in class. She really is a good seer, she just... doesn't really know about it."

"What do you mean, she doesn't know?" Hermione's eyes widened. "She tells us almost every day that she communes with the spirits and things."

"Just that. She isn't able to recall those things she told us. It's like there's something inside her that just wakes up and knows who to tell the real story to. She doesn't hear anything she says. Last time, she apologized to me afterwards for drifting off."

"Or maybe," Ron interrupted, "She just subconsciously understands which person wants to know something important, and it's her subconcsious mind telling us those things."

"Yeah, that sounds right." Harry said thoughtfully. "Anyhow, someone somewhere has told her that she has 'the gift', but I don't think she understands what that really means, so she makes up all of these guesses about the future to impress everyone. To make it seem like she knows what the heck she's doing, when in all honesty, she doesn't have a clue."

Hermione laughed. "I don't think she's fooled all that many people."

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The trio sauntered into the transfiguration classroom early, and took their seats. A few other students had arrived, but professor McGonagall was still not at her desk, so they chatted for a bit. They made a silent agreement not to mention anything about the new prophecy as it seemed to make Harry uncomfortable.

Harry thought about it however, and by the time the class was half over, he realized he hadn't heard all that much about what McGonagall had said. He looked at the notes he had compiled thus far, and realized he didn't understand a word of them.

She seemed to be talking about large scale mammalian transfigurations. Harry made a mental note to ask Hermione what she had told them after class. He began to pay more attention and take more complete notes. This sort of thing could come in handy when he figured out how to become an animagus.

He was able to nearly forget about the prophecy until they had been dismissed for their next class.

"Mister Potter, I'd like to see you for a moment." McGonagall stated, pursing her lips tightly.

The prophecy rushed back to him in its entirety at that moment. _Bugger all teachers that make stay after class from now on._ He thought to himself.

"We'll wait for you." Ron muttered, and he and Hermione left the room, as Harry walked with trepidation up to McGonagall's desk.

"Mister Potter, I'd like to address something important regarding the Gryffindor Quidditch team."

"Yes ma'am?" Harry's heart leapt. Was she going to say what he thought she was going to say? He could never tell what sort of things McGonagall had on her mind. Was she going to give him back his spot? Or had she called him up to punish him some more for not paying attention in class?

"Last year, you were given a ban on playing due to some unfortunate incidents involving yourself and mister Malfoy."

Harry noticed she left out the fact that it had been a _lifetime ban_ he had received from Umbridge for punching Malfoy in the face after the Slytherin-Gryffindor match. He thought McGonagall was trying to forget everything professor Umbridge had ever done during her time at the school.

"I have been given the right to overturn this sentence if, and only if I have your word that you will not do anything so foolish again."

Harry nodded. "Of course, professor. I promise."

"Then consider yourself back on the team."

Harry smiled widely. "Thank you professor!"

"Remember that I have your word, and I take it very seriously. If I have reason to suspend you again, I will." She threatened.

When Harry nodded with understanding, she smiled again, once more confusing Harry to no end with her sudden mood change. "As you know, we are currently running without a captain again. I know it may be a little soon after your ban to be doing this, but I was wondering whether you would like the job?"

Now Harry's heart was doing a little jig. Quidditch Captain! It was something he had hoped for since he was in first year! He couldn't believe he was going to be doing that! It was nearly the highest honour, save being made head-boy.

That thought made Harry's jig-dancing heart grind to a halt.

Did he really want to be quidditch captain? He felt confident that he understood the game, and quite certain that he could do it, but did he actually _want_ to? Did he want to be the one that took all the credit? Did he really want the attention it would attract? He already got enough attention as it was being the 'boy-who-lived' and all that. Did he really want _more_? Besides, he wasn't a huge insatiable fanatic about the game. He might like the sensation of flying a broomstick, but quidditch was really just an opportunity to keep at it. He wasn't like Ron, who collected quidditch memorabilia, and went absolutely insane trying to memorize statistics and moves made, and team histories and so on.

Ron was the real quidditch nut in Gryffindor tower. He might not be the most amazing keeper Gryffindor had ever seen, but he loved the game. _Much _more than Harry ever had, and the mirror of Erised had shown being quidditch Captain as Ron's greatest desire. How could Harry comfortably stand in the way of that?

"Have you spoken to Katie about this?" Harry asked, looking a little worried. Katie Bell was older than Harry by one year, and she might want the position too.

"I have heard from her parents, and they have decided that she needs to focus on her studies in NEWT year. They forbade her to accept the spot." McGonagall looked at Harry hopefully. "But I believe the Captainship should be yours anyhow."

"Professor..." Harry began warily. "I'm certainly pleased that you've asked me, but to be honest, I think Ron would appreciate the position much more."

McGonagall stared at Harry as if he had lost his mind. "Are you certain of this mister Potter? You've been seeker on the team since first-year! Ron's only been playing for a year now!"

Harry nodded. "But Ron is just that much more of a fanatic about the game than I am. He would pass that enthusiasm on to the rest of us without meaning to. And after that last game against Ravenclaw... you can't say he's not a good player. When he's nervous, he sometimes goes off form, but he's got the talent. If he were given the place, it would probably improve his nerves, and make him a better player."

McGonagall looked shocked. "I've never had a student turn the offer of quidditch Captain down on principle before!"

"I'm sorry." Harry said apologetically.

"Mister Potter, you are one-of-a-kind." She looked impressed at Harry's lack of pretension. "I will certainly pull mister Weasley aside and ask him if he would like the position. This is unexpected and very honourable of you..." she trailed off, staring at the wall in thought.

"If you'd like, Ron is waiting for me outside the class. You could ask him now."

McGonagall snapped out of her reverie, and nodded. "Of course, yes. Do send him in. Thank you mister Potter."

Harry wondered briefly if he was insane for doing what he had just done. He was sure that the look on Ron's face would be a thousand times more satisfactory than having the position for himself.

"Er...Professor?" Harry said, suddenly turning around.

"Yes?"

"Don't tell Ron that I refused. If he asks, just tell him that I wasn't allowed or something after my ban, and that you asked my opinion of your selection or something."

"Of course." She nodded, and Harry turned and left the room.

"Ron, McGonagall wants to see you." Harry said, smiling widely.

Ron looked a little worried. "Did she tell you what for?"

Harry shook his head. "Not telling mate, you'll have to find out for yourself."

Ron disappeared though the door.

"What's she going to tell him?" Hermione asked.

Harry thought it couldn't hurt to let Hermione know what was going on. "She's going to make him quidditch Captain."

"No way!" Hermione nearly screamed.

"Shhh! Keep your voice down!" Harry whispered.

"What's she doing, making him Captain for? He's only been playing for a year!" she whispered back.

"Yes, but he's a good player! Don't you dare say anything like that in front of him! He deserves it!" Harry was starting to get a little angry, and he abruptly reined in the burst of aggression.

Hermione looked at him curiously. "I thought it would be you." She mumbled.

"Well it isn't."

"You got him the spot, didn't you." It wasn't a question.

Harry blushed, and his boiling temper melted away. Hermione was always a little too smart for her own good. "Don't tell him, but she offered it to me first."

"Right." She seemed to understand the importance of this, and just nodded. Harry felt appeased. He tried to open the door just a crack to hear what was going on, but at that moment, Ron appeared, nearly slamming the door into Harry's face.

His face was flushed, and his eyes were sparkling with excitement.

"Oh! Sorry Harry!" he apologised quickly, having noticed the near collision.

"It's all right." Harry said. "So, what do you think?"

"It's brilliant!" Ron was near to bursting with excitement. "I can't believe she would make me captain!" he laughed. "I thought it would be you!"

Harry and Hermione eyed each other.

"Nonsense!" Hermione said. "You're the real quidditch buff here! Congratulations!" She stood on her tiptoes, and gave Ron a light kiss on the cheek.

Ron blushed even brighter.

"Thanks!" he said enthusiastically.

"Good job mate!" Harry said with a genuine smile on his face. It was enough for his ego to know that McGonagall had thought of him first. Ron was really the one who needed to know he was somebody, and Harry really didn't want any more attention.

Today he was just happy to watch Ron's excitement.


	11. Lgilimency Vs Occlumency

A/N: Not a thing to say really, I just like adding author's notes. I'm a sucker for any excuse to write.

Disclaimer: See author's note, wherin all claims to monetary gain are replaced by the simple need to write and a few cheap thrills.

**Chapter Eleven - **

**Legilimency Vs. Occlumency**

Before the trio arrived at potions, Harry took a deep breath, and relaxed his mind. He made a concerted effort to forget all emotion, and just be. He didn't like the idea that Snape could read his thoughts if he wanted to, and he refused to allow his most hated teacher have the leverage he needed to get to him.

Harry, Ron and Hermione sat at the furthest side of the class to Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherins. The class was considerably sized down from the year before, as more than half of them had not received an outstanding in their OWLs. Harry was a little surprised to see Neville in the class, and sat down next to him. Hermione and Ron took the desk behind.

"How are you Neville? Didn't get much of a chance to talk to you in Defense." Neville had not been in their Transfiguration class. It seemed he had not received the necessary Exceeds Expectations to get into that class, but Harry didn't want to bring it up to him.

"Oh, same old. I just had my first music class! It was great!"

"Oh really? Who's teaching that?" Harry caught the sound of nearly inaudible giggles from behind them. Neville remained unaware of Hermione and Ron's opinion of his music class.

Neville smiled. "It's one of the witches who lives in Hogsmeade. Her name is professor Fortuna, and she's so cool." Neville sighed, looking a little wistful.

Harry nearly laughed, almost forgetting everything about not feeling emotions. He made do with a wry smile. "She's cool? I've never heard a teacher described in precisely that way before."

"You should meet her, then you'd understand. She only comes in on Mondays, but the rest of the time she plays piano or guitar, and sings with a group called 'The Cat's Whiskers.' They're pretty well known in the Wizarding world."

"Well, I'll have to take your word for it. I'm afraid I don't listen to the WWN."

Hermione leaned forward. "What instrument did you choose?"

"I haven't really decided yet. I'm leaning towards the cello, but the accordion looks like a lot of fun. According to professor Fortuna, both instruments go well with my personality."

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "Don't choose the accordion. My uncle plays one, and he's awful. I'd never forgive you if I had to listen to you practice."

Neville laughed. "I'll keep your warning in mind."

At that moment, Snape stormed into the class.

"Welcome to sixth year NEWT level potions." He hissed, not sounding welcoming at all. "I will not tolerate anything less than perfection here, as I know each of you had to have achieved at least an O on your OWLs." He sneered, looking directly at Harry and Neville. Harry felt Neville gulp heavily beside him.

"Many of you will not last the full two years of your NEWT level in potion making, as I do not take lightly to laziness or stupidity." Still he was staring quite rudely at Harry and Neville. Harry tried not to let any emotion surface.

He remembered the occlumency classes he had been taking through last year. Snape had been furious and disgusted that he had to teach Harry, and Harry had been horrified and angry that Snape was the one who had been assigned to teach him.

Halfway through the year, Harry had snuck a look at the Pensieve that Snape had been using to hide many of his thoughts in. Snape had caught him, and chucked him from his office, yelling that he never wanted to see him in there again. It had been terrifying. Even more terrifying were the events he had witnessed in the penseive.

But just now, all those emotions he had about Snape went out the door. Harry felt nothing but contented as he watched Snape rant about the laziness of some students.

When Harry critically analyzed Snape's behaviour, he could see that he was trying to get a rise out of him. He wanted to see whether he could crack Harry's façade. He almost _felt_ the anticipation of the Potions master flooding out of his gaze. Harry stared right back.

Snape must have sensed the lack of emotion in Harry's gaze, for he seemed to give up the fight. He changed the subject, and went on to the first potion they would be creating. Every once in awhile, his eyes would spring menacingly to Harry's. Harry felt as if he were absorbing his glare. Turning it into a part of himself.

Harry suddenly found himself standing, rather than sitting. He felt his lips moving, and heard a voice speaking about the properties of ladybug juices. The sound of this voice was wrong.

_"Potter are you listening to me? Five points from Gryffindor!" _He heard himself say, and the surprise made him leap back into the desk behind him.

He was himself again, and Snape was staring at him in disgust. Harry's back was bruised from the impact it had made on Ron and Hermione's desk, and he winced in pain.

What had he just done?

How was it possible that he had just _become_ Snape for a moment? The thought made him shudder.

Snape seethed with obvious disdain, he was obviously not aware of the mental infraction Harry had just committed. His beady eyes locked on Harry's. "Mister Potter, I would like you to repeat everything I just said for the rest of the class to hear." He hissed.

Harry stared back at the greasy-haired professor. Strangely enough, he could remember exactly what the man had just said. He had been _in _his mind just a moment ago after all.

Harry's voice was almost shaking, and it cracked a little as he gave is answer. "You said that the properties of ladybug juice in potions are numerous, as it's what's known as an absorbitive. It can take on quite a few of the properties of whatever magical plant or substance it is cooked with. For instance, if you need a lot of unicorn blood, and can only find a small sample, you can cook-"

"That will be enough, Mister Potter. Five more points from Gryffindor for rudeness."

Harry didn't flinch. After what had just happened, he didn't think he really cared about so menial a thing as house points, or whether or not this horrible teacher liked him at all.

Obviously Hermione did care, and Harry heard a small gasp of indignation from behind him.

"Something to say, Miss Granger?" Snape asked, flicking his sharp eyes to her.

She must have decided that it wasn't worth any more house points, because she muttered a, "No sir," and Snape nodded imperiously. He turned away, and continued with his lecture.

Harry tried to focus his mind on the subject at hand, and to keep his head free of emotions, but it was difficult after what had just happened. The fear and frustration sat at the edge of his consciousness, just waiting to attack. He could feel it scraping away at his composureas the class continued.

000000

In the end, the Gryffindor side of the class walked out of potions thirty points lighter, all due to Harry in some way.

"That horrible cretin!" Ron exploded once they were out of earshot. "You didn't once do anything to push him, and he still took points away! I can't believe that."

"Just wait until I tell you what I've done now." Harry mumbled, and dragged his very confused looking friends off to Gryffindor tower at full speed.

"You what?!" Hermione exploded.

"I think I just read Snape's mind while I was in class." Harry said. They were all huddled into the sixth year boy's dormitories of Gryffindor tower, and Harry was getting fidgety.

The emotions that he was now letting flood back into his mind were nearly making him shake with the power of them all, mostly fear and anger. To let off some of the steam, he looked hard at the trunk near the foot of his bed.

_Alohomora_, he thought, without bothering to point his wand.

He heard the latch click, and the surprise he felt when he realized what he had just done made him more nervous.

"And I think I've just done some wandless and soundless magic at the same time." He said, and looked up to see three very alarmed faces staring over at him.

"Harry, you know you can be a bit frightening sometimes?" Ron asked.

"I'm sorry. I don't want to make everyone nervous. I just think you should all know what I seem to be capable of. I'm not doing a good job of controlling my magic right now."

"Reading people's minds? Wandless and soundless magic together? It all sounds a little dodgy to me." Said Neville. "I couldn't do any of that if I tried."

"Yes you could." Harry said forcefully. "You can do anything I can do, you've just been saying things like that about yourself for so long, that you think it's true!"

Harry let off another burst of wandless and soundless magic, by popping the lid to the trunk open, and summoning his broom, all without pulling his wand or saying anything.

"I'm going for a fly out on the pitch. I'll see you all later." He called angrily as he stomped out of the room.

Harry was literally storming along the hallway. A small grey thundercloud was following him just above his head, looking ready to burst, and many students were nervously tracking a wide path around him. It was all Harry could do not to remember fully what he had seen and felt while inside Snape's mind. Just that one encounter had made Harry realize quite a bit more about his Potions professor than he had ever wanted to know.

Snape had been staring at him... The black hair mussed and the green eyes slightly vacant... Snape had been trying to look as angry as possible... The words he knew he would use in that class against Harry felt like vomit on his tongue... His sneer felt like the perfect disguise... What Snape had really felt, hidden behind all the disdain and hatred, was _pity._

Could that be true?

The professor with the lack of a conscience, who was filled with hatred for anything not Slytherin, was feeling sorry for a self-righteous _Gryffindor_ _student?_

It almost made Harry angrier. He didn't want anyone's pity. What he wanted was respect, and he would never get it directed at him from Snape, of all people.

Of course, Snape still hated him, but the hate was more about who his parents were than who he was. Snape hated him even more because he couldn't seem to follow in the same footsteps his father had. The hate he felt was baseless, groundless, and it made Snape hate Harry even more, because he had made him hate himself. It was all very confusing. No wonder Snape couldn't even figure it out.

Harry stormed out into the centre of the field, swung his firebolt beneath him aggressively, and pushed off, spreading a cloud of dust out in a circle around his takeoff point.

The wind in his hair began to relax him, and the thundercloud above him slowly turned to white, and dissipated.

Harry did three fast paced circuits of the entire pitch, stretching out his hand as he passed the goal hoops, and letting the posts slap against the tips of his fingers like a washboard.

By the third circuit, Harry had come to an important decision.

First, the rest of his friends had to know about the prophecy. By keeping it from them, he would be making the same mistake Dumbledore had made by keeping it from him. Knowledge was power, as are friends. If that were true, then having knowledgeable friends would make him very powerful. And he would in turn, make them more powerful by trusting them with this secret.

The second decision, was that Harry knew he would have to speak with Snape.

He didn't want to do it, nor would Snape be at all forthcoming with answers to Harry's questions. But this _pity_... that Snape seemed to focus on him...

All Harry could come up with to explain it was that Snape was and had been playing the bad-guy all along to get a good retaliatory performance out of Harry. Somewhere along the way, Harry had truly lost the grudging respect of his Potions master, and all that was left in Snape's mind was the opinion that Harry needed some sort of charity to sustain him as a strong willed individual. This lingering resentment for his father didn't help matters.

Of course, Snape would never provide that charity, so as to continue the hoax that he hated Harry's guts. But he knew that someone else would have to, and that was enough to make Harry very disgusted with himself and with the professor. It was very difficult to understand that anyone could hate and pity at the same time.

An image popped into Harry's mind of a very angry Draco Malfoy on the train station platform. Harry hated him, and yet somewhere deep in the back of his mind, he knew that he also pitied him.

Was it the same?

"Harry, are you all right?"

Harry yelped as he miscalculated the distance of the quiddich poles, and received a jarring blow to his wrist.

Ginny Weasley was flying with him now, and Harry had the feeling that she probably had been for a while. Maybe even since before he had gotten out there. He'd been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed her fly up beside him.

She gripped her shining new cleansweep, and looked quite comfortable sitting on it. Her mother had bought it for her as a reward for making prefect.

Harry sighed. If he was committed to telling everyone about the prophecy, then the least he could do was be honest about how he felt. Thus far whenever anyone had asked him 'Are you all right?' He'd always responded with a wave and a 'yeah sure, I'm fine.'

"No, I'm absolutely miserable." Harry answered.

Ginny didn't look at him pityingly, or pat his arm reassuringly. Instead, she smiled.

"I'm glad to see you're feeling well enough to admit that you feel horrible."

Harry had to laugh at that one. It was just backward enough to make him really have to think it through, and straightforward enough that it made sense.

"So, what's causing this melancholy? More of the same? Is it about Sirius?"

Harry nodded slowly. "Partly, but there's more." He looked over to her hovering form, and then over to the tall boxes to the side of the field. "We should take a seat."

Ginny nodded, and they flew over to the tallest red and gold decorated box. Perhaps the choice was for Gryffindor ambiance. A bravery crutch to support his failing nerves. Perhaps it was just where they were used to sitting as students of Gryffindor. Either way, as Harry touched down, he felt a little more at home.

"I have to tell you all about the prophecy." Harry began.

Ginny's eyes never wavered as he told. She did ask Harry to clarify a few things afterwards, but she took the news a lot better than Harry had expected her to.

"It's not totally unexpected, is it?" She said thoughtfully. "We've always known he was after you for some reason. And we both knowhe wouldn't have stopped until you were dead. This just makes it official."

It was a very sensible way to look at the issue, and the conversation died out for a moment while Harry pondered the comment.

"It's too bad about the kill or be killed thing, but at least we know that _someone_ can do it. I mean- I'm sorry that it's you and all, but really- would you rather live for another twenty years, knowing that the people around you were going to suffer? Or would you rather do something about it? In my mind, I have no doubt that I could kill if it was necessary."

Harry looked at her astonished. "You? You could kill someone? Are you sure of that?" He couldn't imagine little Ginny as a cold-blooded-murderer. Then again he reasoned, he couldn't really see it in himself, but it was going to be necessary if he wanted to fulfill the prophecy.

"I could do it if I knew that the people I love would suffer if I did nothing. I'm more than willing to save innocent lives, maybe even at the cost of my own. Of course, this could all be just in my mind, and at the first sight of Voldemort or a Death-Eater I turn tail and run or something."

Harry chuckled. "I think everyone who was involved in the Department of Mysteries battle really proved themselves. I don't think you need to doubt your own bravery."

"Harry, I've wanted to thank you for awhile now, and I guess I just never got around to it..." She trailed off.

"What?" Harry scoffed, "You want to thank me for putting you all into a stupid and dangerous position?" He glared at her. "No thanks needed, all in a day's work."

"No need to be churlish." Ginny looked slightly offended. "Anyhow, that's not what I meant. I meant when the Death-Eaters threatened to... to torture me... You know, in the Department of Mysteries. You... you stepped in front of me, and I just wanted to thank you."

Harry hadn't thought all that much about it, but the fear that Ginny must have felt at being singled out for torture... he didn't really _want_ to think about it.

"You're welcome." He mumbled.

"Right, let's talk about something else." Ginny suddenly said loudly.

"All right..." Harry racked his brains for a topic that didn't involve either one of them and their problems.

"You know Ron's been made Quiddich captain, so you won't have to buy your way on to the team this year, family ties and all of that."

Ginny growled. "I'm going to try out like all the rest, you moronic git."

Harry laughed. "Don't worry, you're pretty much guaranteed one of the chaser spots this year, Captain Ron or no. After all that awesome seeking you did last year, anyone would be insane not to want you on the team."

They chatted until just before dinner, then made their way up to the castle. Harry vowed he would apologize to Ron, Hermione, and Neville, and he said he would need Ginny's support to tell them all about the prophecy. He had a feeling that they wouldn't take the news quite as well as she had. In fact she would probably be the only level-headed person left in the room, including Harry himself.

Ginny had been genuinely surprised that she had been the first friend Harry had told about the prophecy, and she suggested the news be kept among the Department of Mysteries group. That meant including Luna in the discussion.

Harry decided she had a point, and that they all deserved to know just what they had been fighting for.


	12. The Three Prophecies

Disclaimer: Whatever I said, I'm sorry.

**Chapter Twelve -**

**The Three Prophecies**

Harry and Ginny had been able to drag the lot of them to the side as they made their way down to dinner in the great hall. They invited Luna to come into the Gryffindor Common room for the first time, and she was dazed and pleased to be considered a part of their group.

He had waited until the common room was empty of students, then he just said with a straight face that he was the prophecied saviour of the wizarding world. He told them all about the contents of the prophecy.

Harry was right about one thing. The others definitely didn't take the news as well as Ginny had.

Hermione vowed immediately to gather up as many books as possible on duels and dueling. Ron began to pace the common room, and mutter things about how unreliable divination was, and how stupid Trelawney was probably just doing it for effect. Many threats were involved, and much emphatic cursing.

Neville sat ashen faced in one of the maroon wingback chairs, and Luna was looking slightly uncomfortable in the unfamiliar common room. She was sitting at one of the tables, staring vacantly at a tapestry and shredding a spare bit of parchment into tiny bits. Ginny had tried valiantly to get them all to see her point of view on the matter, but all they seemed to be able to focus on was the dreaded kill or be killed scenario that Harry was now faced with.

"I don't expect you all to sit by idly while I go off and get myself killed, but I would like you all to respect the final battle as mine and mine alone. I don't want more people killed because I happen to be the one he's after." Harry tried to look threatening as he stared at his friends.

Ron stared back just as threateningly."It doesn't matter what you think, mate. I personally think that this whole prophecy dung heap is just that. A festering pile of dragon droppings with Trelawney as the queen worm. I'm going to do whatever it takes to prove that she's wrong, if I have to kill you-know-who myself."

"That's the spirit!" Hermione cheered and clapped, looking more nervous than she sounded. "Down with all prophecies!"

"Now Hermione." Luna chided, still staring vacantly at the tapestry as though Hermione were actually woven into it. "You know they wouldn't have kept that room in the Department of Mysteries full of prophecy copies if they didn't somehow have proof that it was real."

Hermione said nothing, but glared angrily at Luna.

"Besides," Luna continued, "It's not like Dumbledore would ever let anything happen to you. He's working so hard right now for the Order, and now that I've heard the whole prophecy, some of the things that he's done make a lot of sense. He's been doing all of that for you, Harry. He is a brilliant man, no one can deny it. As long as he's on your team, you'll be safe." She had stopped shredding the parchment into bits, and was looking a bit more confident once she had said this. It was like she was only just discovering the idea as she said it aloud.

A voice spoke up so quietly they hardly heard it. "It could easily have been me, couldn't it?"

Harry walked over to Neville, and collapsed into the chair beside him. "Yes, it could have... but I was the one marked, so now we know for certain that I'm the one she meant."

"God, I'm glad it's you and not me!" Neville let out in a puff of air. "I wouldn't last a second against you-know-who!"

"Yes you would." Said Harry. "All you would have to do is call him by his real name to his face, and there you have your defense."

"What?" Neville looked confused. "How would that give me defense?"

"His name is feared. He likes to make people fear him as it gives him power. Ergo, you call him Voldemort, and you take away his power. He begins to fear you, and you now have power."

"Deductive reasoning dear Watson!" Hermione yelled sarcastically. She seemed to be speaking louder than she'd realized. It was something Harry noticed that she did when she was nervous. Her voice would rise in pitch and volume until it was shrill to an earsplitting level, then she would stand up nervously and run to the library.

Which was exactly what she did.

Sometimes, Harry thought Hermione found some sort of salvation in her books, and he was determined to give it a try sometime.

000000

They all spent the dinner hour pushing their food around on their plates.

A few people came by to say hello, and their fellow Gryffindors were carrying on a raucous conversation about quidditch, but for the most part the department of mysteries group were left alone with their morbid thoughts.

Harry knew what they were all thinking. They were all thinking about how dangerous it was going to be around him. They were thinking about the sacrifices they were going to have to make when Harry faced Voldemort again. They were all pitying Harry.

Which made Harry remember Snape, and what the professor had been keeping hidden in his subconscious.

He abruptly stood up.

"Harry, what are you...?" Hermione started.

"I have something to do. I'll be back in a moment." He walked quickly up to the professor's table to the place where Snape was sitting, chewing on a greasy drumstick.

Snape swallowed hard, and sneered at the boy before him.

Harry tamped down his emotions. "Professor Snape, may I speak with you for a moment?" he asked as politely as possible.

Snape looked over at Dumbledore on his left. "Pardon me Headmaster, but I have some... business to attend to." He stood up and escorted Harry from the great hall.

Many eyes followed as they went, and Harry felt a bit like an animal on display. It was rare for Harry to be seen in Snape's presence, much less request the potions master's presence.

When they had reached the open entrance hall, they ducked into a nearby classroom. It so happened that the classroom they stepped into was now that of professor Firenze. It was still decorated to look like a replica of the forbidden forest, and with all the tall trees around them in the darkness, Harry felt very much like he was being watched.

He willed the emotions of fear away, and the strange sensation of having an eavesdropper _intensified_. For a moment, Harry was only confused.

"All right Potter, get on with it. I haven't got all day, you know!" Snape sputtered impatiently.

"Just a moment sir..." Harry's eyes darted from tree to tree and as far beyond as his eyes could make out in the darkness of the classroom, but nothing was there. At least he couldn't actually _see _anything. But he could somehow feel that something wasn't right. There was something there that he couldn't see.

"Please come out so I can see you!" Harry called to the empty forest.

"What?.." Snape now looked incredibly confused, and looked around him to see who Harry thought he was talking to.

Professor Firenze sauntered slowly out of the darkness, materializing silently as if he had been visible all along. Harry nodded to him, not entirely surprised to see him there.

"Harry Potter." The centaur bowed his blond head low, and bent one hoof before him to show his respect, and nodded in appreciation when Harry bowed back. "I understand what you are looking for. I will remain outside the classroom until you have finished your talk." He pointed to the star-studded ceiling. "Before I leave, I must give you warning, Harry Potter. The planet of War shines ever more brightly this fall. I fear the worst is yet to come."

"I know." Said Harry, his eyes flitting toward Mars. "Thank you." For some reason, Harry had much more respect for Firenze's predictions than he had Trelawney's. Firenze had always made it clear to him that he couldn't ever know for certain what would happen, and Harry was a little more comforted by the centaur's tendency for obscurity. It certainly made more sense to warn someone about a gut feeling of danger than to tell them exactly what was going to happen to them. There was less of a chance with an obscure fortune telling, that the prophecy itself would spur on the prophecized events. That was the mistake Trelawney had made with her first prophecy. Harry's own parents were dead because of it.

Firenze walked past them, and out the door. Harry turned to look at professor Snape, who was glaring at Harry suspiciously.

"How did you know he was there?"

If Harry hadn't known Snape quite so well, he might have thought that Snape was actually curious.

"I don't know. It doesn't matter. I have to tell you something."

"All right, get on with it."

"I was inside your mind today in class, and I wanted to apologize."

Snape gawked. "You were WHERE?"

"Inside your mind." Harry didn't want to see Snape explode, which looked to be a real possibility at the moment, so he quickly continued. "I didn't mean to or anything-"

"You didn't MEAN to? How could you break into my mind without the intention to do so!?" Snape's eyes were beginning to bug out of his face, and his lips were turning white with rage. "I am a master Occlumens! You must be joking!"

If Harry had wanted to feel all of his emotions, he might have felt fear. As it was, he hardly flinched at his professor's dark expression.

"I'm not able to control it completely yet, Sir. When I went into your class, I made myself forget all my emotions. I don't like the fact that you are a legilimens, and I've practiced my occlumency along with my meditation since summer began." Harry took in the expression of disbelief and anger on Snape's face. "I think I got the two mixed up during class, that's all."

Snape smirked. "It just goes to show that you never seem to get things right." He scowled.

Harry ignored the barb. "I know what you think of me."

"What, that you're a stuck up, snivelling little brat who can't keep his nose out of other people's business?"

"I know that you pity me, and I want you to stop." Harry said placidly, but with an undertone of darkness and anger beginning to seep out. "I don't like pity, and least of all from someone like you."

Harry spun on his heel, and ran from the classroom. He muttered a quick thanks to Firenze as he passed.

Harry couldn't go back to the great hall. He knew he was about to explode with the anger that was now rushing back in. He fled through the tall oak doors of the entrance hall and out into the night.

He made it halfway across the courtyard to the quiddich pitch before he knew he was in trouble.

To hold off the explosion, he conjured a ball of blue flame in his palm without his wand or a single word. He growled as loud as he could, and chucked the ball of fire at the ground before his feet.

The explosion it created echoed around the courtyard and forced Harry's eyes away from the fierce glow.

When Harry turned back, feeling quite released of the emotional fervour, he saw that a black singed hole was left in the stones. He felt slightly guilty, realizing that he would now have something else to apologize for.

000000

He returned to the great hall in a very somber mood, just in time for the meal to finish up, and the students pushed past him up the stairs to their dormitories.

Just outside the great hall, Harry caught up with Ron and Hermione, who were having a heated argument.

"I'm not going to put up with any of her bollocks this year. She can't scare me away from class by spouting gibberish." Ron said with a red face.

Hermione was shaking her head at Ron. "You can't just assume that it's all just a bunch of- oh, hello Harry." She had seen Harry over Ron's shoulder.

Harry had the feeling that they had been talking about Trelawney and the prophecy.

"So..." said Ron quietly, confirming Harry's thoughts. "I guess this makes for three stupid prophecies that woman has made about you. Don't you ever wonder why she doesn't torture someone else?"

"What did this last one say again?" Hermione mumbled. "Something about when Dark and light meet... and the wisest one making a choice?"

Harry thought about it. "To be honest, I don't remember her exact wording..." An epiphany broke into Harry's mind. "Come on! I know how to find out!" He grabbed both of his friends by the arms, and dragged them up to Gryffindor tower.

They stated the password, and headed directly for the winding staircase to the boys dormitories.

"What did you want to show us?" Hermione huffed when they had reached the sixth-years landing.

"My pensieve." Harry was breathing just as heavily. "I could show you exactly what she said." They all walked through the door, and were pleased to find the room empty. Harry didn't want to have to share this particular prophecy with anyone else tonight.

Harry rummaged through his trunk, and pulled out the small rune-covered bowl. He placed it on the desk top, and waited for a moment, while the memory of Trelawney slumped in her chair came to his mind.

He lightly touched his wand to his temple, and drew out a long silvery filament of thought. He dropped it lightly into the bowl, and it formed a silver puddle in the bottom.

Harry prodded the substance with his wand, and the small ghostly form of Trelawney rose out of the pensieve

"_When Light and Dark next meet, even the wisest of us all cannot sever the link they hold... Interference may prove costly, and light must choose the price."_

The figure of Trelawney sank back into the bowl, and Harry returned the filament of thought to his mind.

"So" Harry said. "If I can assume that Trelawney is talking about myself and Voldemort..." He stood up to pace. "Our connection? Could be that my mind will link with his the same way it did when Percy was attacked... Or maybe some other way?" He thought briefly about fourth year when he had duelled with Voldemort for the first time. Their wands had somehow joined when they had simultaneously shot spells at each other. That could be what the prophecy intended, but Harry didn't want to mention it. The only people who had known about Harry and Voldemort's wands sharing cores were Dumbledore, Sirius, and Mr. Ollivander, the man who had sold him the wand just over five years previously.

Harry sighed. "I don't know. Someone will try to sever this link between us. Someone wise... Dumbledore maybe? He did tell me that if he could spare me from seeing those things he would..."

"And if you're right about that, then you're going to have to make an important decision of some kind." Hermione's eyes had the glazed look that said she needed to get to the library, and fast.

"If I were you..." Ron began thoughtfully. "I would probably think a lot about my priorities. Work on a strategy."

"What do you mean?" Harry stopped pacing for a moment.

"If you know what's important to you ahead of time, then you can make a more logical and educated decision for... whatever it is you have to choose between. It's like chess. Instead of just reacting split second to whatever your opponent does, you need to know what it is you're aiming for; find out what the end goal is."

Harry thought about that idea. "All right. I see your point. Even though I don't know what I'm supposed to decide between, I can know ahead of time what I need in the end, and make a decision based on that."

"So what is your number one priority?" Hermione asked.

Harry looked at her, slightly dumbfounded.

"Just tell us what your choices are for your priorities for this war, and maybe we can help you sort them out."

Harry nodded warily. He wasn't sure he liked the idea of telling them everything he thought about regarding the war. It wasn't all pleasant, and he really didn't know where to start.

"Do you think you have the ability to kill, Harry?" Hermione asked softly, cutting straight to the heart of the matter.

"I don't know." Harry said honestly. "I don't like the thought, but I probably could, depending on the circumstances."

"What sort of things would you kill for?" Ron asked.

Harry blushed. "My friends."

"And?" Ron prompted, not fazed at all by the honour Harry seemed to be bestowing on him.

"Well, pretty much anyone who can't defend themselves. I hate the thought of merciless killing, and I would probably do anything I could to stop other innocent people from dying." Harry thought about Cedric Diggory. He was a fellow student who had died without mercy and without foreknowledge. It made Harry's chest hurt a little to think about it. Sirius at least, had come to the fight in the department of mysteries _knowing_ he was headed for battle.

"Killing Voldemort would do that, wouldn't it?" Hermione pointed out. "You said you could kill to save innocent people from barbaric deaths."

"So, you're telling me I have the ability to kill Voldemort, but only if it's for the right reasons?"

"Well, do you think you could kill out of anger?" Ron asked quietly.

"Probably not. I know I'm pretty powerful when I get angry, but I don't think I could kill. It just doesn't sound... right."

"So we'll chuck the idea of any revenge killings out of the bag." Ron said easily. "Good thing, too. I don't want to have to watch out for Fred and George, after all of the pranks they've played on you over the years."

Harry smiled. It was amazing, how he could depend on these two to cheer him up. He remembered that it had been a very long time since the three of them had been alone together, and despite the dark subject matter, Harry was having a good time. It felt like he was eleven again, and the three of them were slowly descending into the bowels of the school, searching out the philosopher's stone. Only now, they were descending into the depths of Harry's subconscious, searching out the answers he needed to who he was.

No matter how dire the situation got, Harry knew he could always depend on his friends.


	13. An Embarassing Subject

A/N: This Chapter is really something dumb that I thought I needed to add in at some point. I'm not sure quite why, but since so little happens, I'll give you two chapters to chew on. (Yes, I did find out after writing this that Neville already knew about Grawp, but I needed to introduce him somehow. I'll make it up to you all with a great battle scene.)

Disclaimer: I know you are but what am I.

**Chapter Thirteen - **

**An Embarassing Subject**

The first class Tuesday morning was Wizarding Home.

Harry was a bit curious to see what the class entailed. As someone who had been raised by muggles, Harry assumed he might be at a slight disadvantage. He had spent some time at the Weasley's house, and a bit of time at Grimmauld place, but he hadn't really experienced a lot of the everyday things that normal Wizards needed to keep up a house. In Hogwarts, the house-elves did most of the work, so Harry hadn't really needed to learn yet.

They all trooped in to the transfiguration room after breakfast, and professor McGonagall smiled at them as they took their seats. She looked a little nervous today. Harry could see her hands twitching, and her smile faltered when she realized they were all accounted for.

"I'd like to warn you all that the subject matter in this class is not to be taken lightly. Our first subject may start you all tittering with laughter, but I fear it must be addressed immediately, and I would like you to listen with some sense of _maturity_." She made an attempt to stare the class down, but the glare was somehow lacking its usual intensity.

She took a deep breath. "Our first term will be dedicated to First-aid and related subjects. A part of this topic is in regards to... sexual education."

As McGonagall had predicted, many nervous giggles erupted from the students. Harry blushed, but more because he felt a little sorry for McGonagall. She was a notoriously strict professor, and the topic seemed to make her a little jumpy.

"Many of the changes you experience in the next few years are common to both Muggles and to Witches and Wizards and I hope you will excuse me from leaping ahead of those to address the one change that Muggles do not experience. It is known as 'agoramorphism', and I must make it clear that this change, while not harmful to the witch or wizard, can be quite dangerous.

"During this phase is when our powers expand to their full capacity. Some obvious signs of agoramorphism are a sudden multiplication of accidental magic incidents, a slightly weightless feeling, an extreme excess of energy, and the last -which can often hit the hardest for Gryffindor students- a tendency to be rather more rash, and to disregard your own jeopardy.

"Witches generally agoramorph between the ages of sixteen and seventeen, and Wizards usually slightly later, between the ages of Seventeen and eighteen. I understand that some of you may have already experienced this phenomena, and I apologize if you did not know of it sooner."

She took a deep shuddering breath, as though she were still about to hear childish giggling.

"Madam Pomfrey has asked that the heads of houses try something new this year with our sixth-years. Normally this subject has quite a taboo outside of the classroom, and many witches and wizards do not like to discuss it, but in this class I am going to instigate an open mouth policy regarding the agoramorphosis.

"If you have already gone through your agoramorphosis, and wouldn't mind talking about it with everyone, please raise your hands."

Only Parvati Patil raised her hand.

McGonagall smiled, as if glad that the worst was over.

"Miss Patil, What of those symptoms did you experience?"

Parvati blushed a little. "Well, I did feel kind of weightless now that you mention it. At one point I got angry, and accidentally broke all the glass in the pictures in the hallway. I decided to clean them all up without using a dustpan, and just picked them up in my fists. I cut my fingers and didn't even notice until hours later. I also lit a whole stack of my homework parchments on fire. I burnt my desk, and had to do them all over again the next week."

"And how long did this last?"

Parvati thought for a moment. "It was about three days, I think. It was back at the beginning of the summer."

"That is quite short for an agoramorphosis, but not unexpected. Everyone experiences them at different lengths. Were you able to talk to your parents about it?"

Parvati blushed again. "I tried to talk to my mum about it, but she just got all horrified that I was mentioning it to her. She went out the next day to St. Mungo's and brought me a little pamphlet to read. It helped, and I was able to control it a little better after that. I only once sent my cat flying across the room. She's all right though. She landed on her feet."

"Thank you Parvati for your honesty. I understand how personal this information can be."

Parvati blushed, and nodded. "My sister and I were able to discuss it, and I've pretty much come to terms with all of the things I did then. She hasn't gone through hers yet, so she was really more curious than horrified, like my mom was."

"Have you noticed any changes in your magical abilities now that you've experienced this?"

"I'm finding it easier and faster to learn things now. The magic feels like it just flows a bit smoother... if that makes any sense. I've also noticed that I...well, my mum tells me that I can See now, but I'm not entirely sure it's true."

McGonagall smirked. "Really. Well, that certainly is interesting."

Parvati looked eager, as though she wanted professor McGonagall to ask her something about her new divination abilities.

Harry cringed at the thought that they would have a Seer in Gryffindor tower. The thought was not pleasant, and he only hoped Parvati would select different prophetic material than professor Trelawney.

McGonagall walked back over to her desk, and pulled out a pile of parchments and began handing them out to the students. It showed just how nervous she was feeling that she did not hand the whole pile to one student to pass them out to the rest as was her custom. She seemed to need to do something with her hands.

"Anyone else who feels themselves going through this phase, please feel free to talk about your experiences in class. If you don't feel comfortable with that, please talk to either myself or madam Pomfrey. The Agoramorphosis is much easier to control if one has support, and understands what is going on. It is sometimes necessary to even stay in the hospital wing for a short time, and you will find Madam Pomfrey most agreeable to helping those who need potions to control it."

She finished passing out the parchments. "These are Agoramorphosis guides and journals provided for you by madam Pomfrey. If you wish, you may fill in the answers to these questions once you feel the beginnings of your agoramorphosis, and give an account of your experiences. If you wish to ask a question, there is a space in the bottom where madam Pomfrey has charmed it to respond to certain written queries."

McGonagall switched topics as quickly as she had started. She was suddenly talking about how to splint a broken arm or leg. They were then separated into groups and spent the remainder of the lesson practicing splinting each other's limbs.

When the class was dismissed, Harry Ron and Hermione shuffled off to the great hall for lunch.

"Could you believe McGonagall?" Ron spluttered. "I didn't know she had it in her to talk about all that _personal_ stuff!"

"I didn't know about all of that. I thought it was useful." Hermione sniffed disdainfully. "I wouldn't have known you weren't supposed to mention those things if she hadn't been so obviously nervous."

"I'd have been a little nervous too!" Ron answered hotly.

Harry rolled his eyes. "It all just sounds like people who can't say Voldemort's name. It's just a silly superstition perpetuated by Witches and Wizards because they're afraid."

"That's exactly it, Harry." Hermione announced. "I for one, am not going to keep all this stuff about Agoramorphism quiet."

Ron blushed and winced.

"What, you mean you aren't going to worry about actually saying the word Agoramorphism?" Harry asked her, his eyes flitting over to observe Ron's reaction.

Ron was squirming.

"Yes," agreed Hermione. "I'm going to tell everyone about my Agoramorphism when it happens."

Ron began to whimper.

"I think I agree with you regarding the subject of Agoramorphism." Harry said smiling. "I'll talk about my Agoramorphism when it happens too."

"Stop it you guys." Ron whined, his eyes darting about the corridor to make certain no one was listening.

Harry and Hermione laughed. It was fun to get one over on Ron every once in awhile.

000000

The rest of the afternoon was taken up by Care of Magical creatures with the Slytherins.

It was uncharacteristically quiet without Malfoy in the class, and when they were dismissed by a very confident looking Hagrid, they went to compliment him on the lesson.

"Good job on that one, Hagrid!" Harry said enthusiastically.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville decided to help Hagrid gather up the the small flock of aqua coloured wind-devils, and push them towards the small plastic pool Hagrid had set up next to his hut.

Hermione petted the scaly skin of the wind-devil she cradled, and it crooned affectionately. "Are you sure these are supposed to be dangerous Hagrid?" She asked skeptically.

"Oh, fer sure... But yeh see, any animal's goin' to be a little dangerous in some way. These ones are right fierce about their nesting areas."

"Yeah, you've said that. But I just don't see it. They look so cute!"

"Just trust me Hermione... They'll bite hard enough to take a good chunk outta yer leg." Hagrid winced at the thought.

Harry and Ron snickered. It was certainly something to see Hagrid getting worked up about the ferocity of these animals. Normally Hagrid could make friends with anything from an acromantula and the rest of this spider's massive family, to the biggest Chimaera. None of those animals fazed Hagrid, but the tiny crooning wind-devil seemed to make him flinch in fear.

Once they had all been rounded up, and were contentedly whirring around the surface of the water, Hagrid invited them in for a spot of tea.

"I'm sorry, Hagrid. I've got to go to Arithmancy now. It's the first lesson, and I can't be late!" Hermione apologized. She gathered up her things, and went off up to the castle. As she walked, she held an arithmancy text open before her, only occasionally looking up to make sure she didn't walk into something.

"Don't the rest of yeh have some class or another too?" Hagrid asked.

"Study period." Ron said, grinning.

It was the first time they had been given a study period ever, and after experiencing the classes that he had today, Harry had he feeling his Tuesdays were going to be dead-simple. It was more than a relief after his horrid Monday schedule.

"Right then, tea? Then yeh'll have to go and study like yer supposed."

"All right." Neville answered, and they all went inside Hagrid's hut.

"So Hagrid. How's Grawp?" Harry started.

"Who's Grawp?" Neville asked.

"Hagrid's little brother." Ron answered, and they left it at that.

"I didn't know you had a brother Hagrid." Neville said surprised.

"Yeah, well most don't you see." Hagrid looked a little nervous. "He's not exactly all tha' acceptable in the Wizarding world."

"Is he a squib or something?"

"Well, not exactly... He's really me half-brother see? And he's a full giant."

Neville gasped. "Really?"

"Just don' tell anyone about him all right?" Hagrid said honestly. "It's just that not so many people know he's there."

"Where is he, exactly?" Neville asked, looking a little concerned.

"He's been living in the forbidden forest fer the last year." Hagrid pulled the whistling kettle off the fire, and began to pour the tea. "He's calmed down some from last year. If I were a full giant, I might call him a little soft. He's especially bin' wondering 'bout Hermione. I think he's got a bit of a crush." He chuckled.

Harry, Ron, and Neville stayed for about half an hour. When Ron and Neville stood up to leave, Harry told them he would meet them back in gryffindor tower to go over the Wizarding Home things that McGonagall had assigned them. He really needed to discuss something with Hagrid.

As soon as they left, Harry put up a silencing charm around the cabin and turned to Hagrid.

"So, what's been happening?"

"Don't get yer hopes up now. There really hasn't been any news."

"Oh." Said Harry dispiritedly.

"But what's this I hear about you reading professor Snape's mind?"

Harry scowled. "He told you?"

"Well, not so much told me... I was chattin' with professor Dumbledore in his office just after dinner yesterday, an he came storming in all angry and yelling about you not respectin' privacy an all."

"It was an accident." Harry started, and he blurted out the whole story to Hagrid.

Hagrid chuckled. "Are yeh findin' it hard to practice those things?"

"Well, I can practice occlumency all I want and I won't really know that it's working until someone tries to break into my thoughts."

"I can't really help you there, but what about that legilimency stuff?"

"I hate invading people's privacy." Harry said, looking disgusted.

Hagrid guffawed loudly. "Just like Snape to get it all backward isn't it?!" He slapped Harry heavily on the back. "So you need someone to practice on?" He asked lightly.

"You mean... I would practice on you?" Harry asked surprised.

"Sure, why not!" Hagrid said enthusiastically.

"Well..." Harry thought about it for a moment. "I can't really control it all yet." He tried to make Hagrid see reason. "I might come across something you don't like me seeing."

Hagrid waved a hand at him. "Never mind all that. I don't care if you see everything about me. I trust you enough not to go babbling to everyone about it."

"All right." Harry was still hesitant. "So far, I've only been able to see what people are thinking about at that exact moment. I've only once gone back into someone's past memories, and that was a bit... unintended, so you shouldn't have much to worry about... yet."

"All right, should we give it a go then?" Hagrid asked.

"Now?"

"Sure! Why not?"

"Er... Okay." Harry began to relax in his chair. He dug around in his mind and evicted all thoughts of fear, nervousness, and affection for this giant man sitting before him.

They made eye contact, and Hagrid settled the kettle on the table. "How long do you usually have to wait before it all happens?"

"Not long, as far as I know. Just give me as much time as I need for now. I might get a little faster as I practice, but just try and be as patient as possible."

"All right." Hagrid nodded.

Harry stared at him, and searched for that familiar feeling of duality that would tell him he had succeeded.

He found it, and pushed his own emotions away, looking close at those that were Hagrid's.

Hagrid was nervous, and a little confused. Was this supposed to take so long? He was staring back into Harry's eyes, and suddenly Harry was the one in charge.

He could lift up his -Hagrid's- hand and run it over his bushy beard. The texture of it was familiar, but not really what he was expecting. His large hands felt it in a way that his own never had.

He was so huge now that everything else was made ant-sized. He was looking back at himself all limp and glassy eyed in the chair opposite, and saw that with these giant eyes, he saw everything as miniscule.

He was nearly afraid of breaking the teapot as he examined it. He felt a bit like he was living in a doll house.

He looked back at himself, and knew immediately all of the things Hagrid had ever felt regarding him. He was honoured to call him a friend, but he was also a little concerned for him. The way a brother might feel for a reckless younger sibling.

The strangest thing was the fear.

Hagrid was a little afraid of him. He thought there was still a danger that Harry would go over to the dark side, and be lost forever.

'That's enough,' he thought to himself.

He searched for his own emotions, and allowed them to flood back in. He would have to ask someone later how to look into past experiences. When he had used the shield charm last year against Snape during occlumency training, that was what had happened. For some reason, it wasn't happening now.

He began to stir, and looked back up at Hagrid.

"Something happen?" asked Hagrid gruffly.

Hagrid didn't remember.

Harry had been in his mind for the last minute, and Hagrid didn't even recall that he had been there.

Harry had possessed Hagrid for a _whole minute_. It made him feel incredibly guilty. Taking a whole minute out of someone's life and making it your own was a horrible feeling.

The fear rushed back, and Harry leapt from his chair. The desperation to lash out at something nearly overrode his guilty conscience. He ran outside, with a very confused-looking Hagrid lumbering close behind.

"Do you have any spot you don't mind getting blown up?" Harry asked quickly, trying to repress the boiling emotions for as long as possible.

Hagrid looked a little concerned and even more confused. He must have seen Harry's desperation, however, because he pointed to a grassy spot a few metres away from his pumpkin patch.

Harry conjured another blue ball of flame, and hurled it at the spot, glorying in the release.

When he turned back to Hagrid after the satisfying explosion, he had to apologize. "I'm sorry. I should have told you that might happen."

Hagrid looked dumbfounded.

Harry pulled him back inside, and explained the whole thing.

"Sometimes I just get overwhelmed by the emotions that come back, and I can't hold them in. I've discovered that it helps to vent a little of the excess magic."

"Right, well I guess that'll be all then for today?"

Harry nodded, accepted a rock cake, (which he knew he wouldn't eat) then made his way back up to the castle.

He didn't tell Hagrid that he had seen that the giant was afraid of him. He didn't like the idea. It made him feel more and more as if he were truly only one misplaced step away from becoming an evil lord himself.


	14. Vector's Philosophies

A/N: This is probably one of my favourite chapters. My sister had me read it to her over and over, so even I'm starting to get a little tired of it. I hope you like!

Disclaimer: I hate writing disclaimers. One day, I'll actually write a story that I can get paid for, and I won't have to.

**Chapter Fourteen - **

**Vector's Philosophies**

Harry's fears of becoming the second Lord Voldemort were quenched quite brutally the next morning at Philosophy of Magic. They had been grouped with a number of Hufflepuffs, and the class was chattering eagerly as professor Vector walked in.

"Hello everyone! For those who don't know me, I'm professor Vector!" She bellowed exhuberantly. She was a tall, thin witch with a long greying braid woven with a green ribbon. She was wearing an immaculate set of light blue robes, and many coloured metal bangle bracelets up both arms. The bracelets rattled as she waved her arms about enthusiastically in greeting.

"We're all here to learn about the Philosophy behind Dark and Light Magics! I would like this class to be more of a discussion period than a class at all, so anything you wish to say will be our forum for discussion! First of all, does anyone have a question!?"

Harry wondered whether this teacher would ever be saying anything quieter than an exclamation. He thought he should probably ask something, so he raised his hand.

"Yes!" Professor Vector asked loudly.

"What is your definition of a 'dark wizard'?" He felt like whispering to counter the professor's volume and enthusiasm.

"GOOD QUESTION!" Professor Vector leapt in excitement, jingling her bracelets, and the rest of the class leapt in surprise. "Does anyone have any remarks regarding this subject!? Just speak up please, don't bother to raise your hand!"

"A dark wizard is an evil one." Said Seamus, as if he were slightly confused as to why this were a good question in her eyes.

"I resent the idea that you would call it a 'dark WIZARD' as if you would never see a witch turn dark!" interrupted a haughty sounding Hannah Abbott.

"Don't worry dear, we'll discuss that subject next class!" Professor Vector called to her eagerly. "for now, we have to leave it alone! Go on!" she told the class at large.

"How do you determine what is evil?" said Harry back to Seamus, ignoring Hannah's outburst.

Seamus didn't answer.

Instead Justin Finch-Fletchley spoke up. "You could say that a Dark Wizard is someone who does magic for selfish reasons."

"EXACTLY!" Professor Vector nearly exploded. "For instance, the most well known dark wizard of our time wishes most fervently to make himself immortal! Now say he were to succeed! I know most of you don't want to think about it, but just for instance! If he were to become immortal, what would _he do then?!"_ She was sounding as if she were one of Aunt Petunia's gameshow hosts, asking 'You've just won the lottery! What are _you_ going to _do now_?!'

Harry thought about it. "He would try and use his immortality to control the rest of the Wizarding world."

"Right! But wouldn't that get a little tiresome after awhile?! What would he do after _that?!"_

No one answered.

Obviously she didn't really need a response from them. She answered it herself. "He doesn't seem to have thought that far ahead has he?!

"He wants to gain this immortality for selfish reasons, so he is what we call a 'Dark Wizard"!" Professor Vector said enthusiastically. "He doesn't see the future very well at all, and he can't see immortality being any sort of curse! Just ask any Vampire you meet if they would rather have died as a human, and most of the older ones would tell you that they would!"

Harry felt a little as if he were watching a quiddich game. This teacher was a bit overenthusiastic, but she seemed to be able to pull the rest of the class along with her. Harry could see many of the Hufflepuffs smiling at her, and looking utterly enchanted.

"Right! Now that we have defined the term of 'Dark Wizard', what about the term, 'Light Wizard'?!"

"Well! I would say the exact opposite of a dark one!" said Ernie MacMillan, one of the Hufflepuff prefects. "Someone who does everything to provide for those who can't help themselves!" He was sounding as though he really appreciated professor Vector's style, and was trying to emulate it.

"EXACTLY!" professor Vector made the class jump again. "For instance, our own 'light wizard' here – Harry Potter," she smiled at him, and gestured as if she were introducing him to the rest of the class. Harry felt like hitting his head on the desk in embarrassment, "– is often found dueling you-know-who in order to save those he holds most dear!"

_Oh Darn,_ thought Harry, _I shouldn't have chosen to take this class._

Ron was laughing silently in his seat while Harry blushed, and tried very hard to pretend that they were not talking about him.

"I must stress that Dark and Light magics have nothing to do with power!" Professor Vector yelled to the class. "Mister Potter here, was dueling directly with you-know-who in his fourth year, and he survived! He was even able to survive the killing curse at the age of one! So when it comes to down good and bad, the amount of power you have in you is irrelevant!"

_I'm going to regret this so much. _Harry thought to himself, but he still spoke up. "And do you believe that a Light Wizard can ever turn Dark?"

"It certainly is a possibility, but from what I've seen and heard about you Mister Potter, you needn't fear something like that!"

Harry felt like locking himself in the nearest broom closet.

000000

The sixth-year Gryffindors were all sitting around the lunch table, laughing uproariously at what Ron was telling them all about professor Vector's class. Harry was scowling and blushing alternately. Harry truly regretted ever having asked his question to begin with, and he hoped she wouldn't continue to name him as an example of 'light wizard' throughout the year. If he remembered the list of subjects she had given them, dark and light magics were top priority. He'd flipped through much of his philosophy text, and almost the whole thing focused on different aspects of the same topic.

He sighed with resolve, and leaned on his elbow.

"Harry you just put your elbow in the butter dish." Ginny whispered to him, and giggled. "A little preoccupied?" she asked.

"A little." He answered, trying to inconspicuously wipe the butter from the sleeve of his robe.

"Profesor Vector getting you down?" She giggled even more, and continued before he could answer. "Don't worry, a little hero-worship never hurt."

"You have no idea." Harry told her, thinking about the differences between what Hagrid thought about him, and what professor Vector thought.

He decided to change the subject. "Ron's put the tryouts for quiddich on Friday, so I figured while we're still reasonably quiet on the quiddich front, we should have another DA meeting. What do you think?"

"Sure!" she answered enthusiastically. "The first one was awesome! I can't wait!"

Again, he pulled out his fake galleon, and touched his wand to it.

Ron and Hermione, who hadn't been paying attention, jumped a little as they felt their coins grow warm. Harry smiled at them.

"Hermione, have you had a chance to give Mark a galleon yet?" Harry asked.

Hermione looked surprised. "Oh, you know I totally forgot! I'll get one to him as soon as possible!"

"In the meantime," Harry continued. "I need to tell him about our meeting." He stood from the bench, and walked down the table to where he could see Mark and the young blond girl chatting animatedly.

Harry caught Mark's eye, and the boy excused himself from the conversation. He stood, and walked over to Harry. "Are we having a meeting again?" he asked looking flushed.

"Yes. Tonight, eight o'clock. Same place."

Mark nodded. "Um...maybe could I bring a friend?"

"Which one?" Harry asked.

Mark nodded toward the blond girl. "Her name's Sarah Kettleburn. Apparently her grandfather used to teach here."

Harry nodded, trying inconspicuously to size her up. "I never met him properly. He left after my second year. Hagrid got his job." Harry turned back to Mark. "Do you trust her?"

Mark looked astonished that Harry would take his word for it. "Yes. She seems quite nice. A little quiet, and not overly intelligent, but nice."

"All right, bring her along. But don't tell her any details. You can both come half an hour early, and I'll explain it all to her. I might be able to do some things with you in that time too. Just say you've been invited to some sort of meeting, and you thought she might want to come along. Tell her as much as I told you."

Mark nodded.

Harry decided to make the rounds now, and he went and asked both Luna and Hannah if they had any recommendations for younger students interested in the DA.

He asked them to bring them along to the meeting half an hour earlier to meet at the same time as Mark and Sarah.

He went back to his seat, and told Hermione to find a few Gryffindors for him as well, then asked her to prepare as many extra fake Galleons as she could.

000000

They had Herbology that afternoon, and Professor Sprout had them working with tiger cactuses.

Hermione had a transfiguration book sitting on her lap which she was obviously trying to keep hidden from professor Sprout. It was open to the page on 'basic animal to animal transfigurations', and she wasn't paying attention to what she was doing as she liberally heaped dirt around the base of her plant, as the cactus growled quietly to get her attention. She unwittingly threw some into her tiger cactus' mouth.

It spat the dirt out directly in her face, and all over the page she had been reading. Neville quickly did a scourgify charm on her, and helped her to place the dirt properly, all without letting professor Sprout see what he had done.

"Thank you so much!" she said, sounding flustered, and closing the book. "I didn't realize it would do that!"

"Neither did I, but I kind of figured we shouldn't put the dirt in their mouths. I thought they wouldn't like it much."

Hermione blushed, and Neville grinned. He had been helped out by Hermione on all of his own work so much in the past, that it was a little odd to be seeing things in reverse.

"Say, Neville," Harry asked, "How are things going with your new wand?"

Neville grinned. "You were right! I've been able to do things with this one that I've never been able to completely figure out! I think my new wand likes me or something."

They all laughed.

Neville leaned closer to Harry, and whispered enthusiastically. "I conjured a patronus!"

"Really?!" Harry answered, astounded. "What animal did you get?" Harry's own patronus was a stag.

"It was a fish!" Neville said happily. "A huge one, like a carp."

"That's amazing Neville!"

Harry had forgotten that Neville and quite a few other people in the DA had still not been able to conjure patronuses. They had been forced to leave the DA lessons in the middle of March, when Professor Umbridge had discovered them, and they had been right in the middle of that particular study when they stopped.

He was going to have to continue with that vein too.

Just how was he supposed to teach everyone in the DA different things at the same time?

Harry leaned over to whisper so that no one else could hear. "If you don't mind me asking, what good memory did you use to power it?"

Neville smiled. "I got a letter from my Gran about my parents. She says they've started talking again, and I'm going to visit with them next weekend."

Harry stared at Neville. "Wow, that really is good news! You'll have to tell me all about it when you get back."

"All right. I'm not really sure what to expect. I've never... never heard their voices before." Neville was sounding a little choked up, so Harry patted his back a bit in comfort.

"By the way, Gran says thanks for helping them."

Harry nodded. "It's good to know I'm not just some pathetic Voldemort radar."

Neville chuckled. "Even a Voldemort radar needs thanks sometimes, so he doesn't think he's pathetic."

Harry gaped at Neville. "You said Voldemort's name!"

Neville shrugged, his lips in a semi-confident smirk. "Apparently it's supposed to be empowering or something."

"So I've heard." Harry answered with a chuckle.

000000

At the pre-meeting DA, Hannah, Hermione and Luna had brought along their selections for the DA. Hannah had actually decided to bring -along with those of her own house- two Slytherin first-years. Harry's initial reaction was to kick them out of the room, but after he had spoken with them for awhile, and explained the situation of the DA to everyone he realized that these Slytherins were actually good people, and quite smart. Maybe they were a bit more ambitious than most, but in their case it didn't seem to be a bad thing. He had each of the beginners link their pinkies with him in promise.

In all, he had six first-years and four second-years.

It was quite lucky that they all seemed to be on the same level as Mark, and it was only then that the young boy realized just how little their past teachers had done with these students.

"You taught all those things to the older group?" he asked in astonishment. "They didn't learn most of it in class?"

"Not last year, at least." Harry answered. "I'm sure if you asked any questions about magical theory to the second years, they could tell you something. Even if it's something a bit wrong. Professor Umbridge wouldn't let us use magic in her class, so we spent the entire year reading from the text. The only people you might see able to do anything productive defense wise is anyone from fourth-year and up. Rem... Professor Lupin was the only good teacher we had."

"You were right about professor Trelawney." Mark chuckled. "She's another of the same sort as your last year professor."

Harry scowled. "She's nowhere near as conniving, but the result will be the same, yes."

Harry turned back to the others. They were learning the 'lumos' spell, and doing quite nicely. "Everyone, when the others arrive, I'm going to pair you off and show you the disarming charm. I'd like you all to practice it while I go about the older students. I'll come back later, and help you perfect it."

Half an hour later, the senior members began to arrive and Harry quickly explained the disarming charm to his beginners. Shouts of "expelliarmus!" began to circle around the room, and things began to fly everywhere. Wands, robes, hair, and in one case, a girl's glasses flew off her face, and onto the top of the bookshelf. Harry summoned them to him, and repaired them with a wave of his wand. He handed them back to her, and quickly made some suggestions to the younger group about their technique, then he asked that they continue without him.

He turned to the older group that had assembled, and noticed that many of them were giving the two young Slytherin boys looks of loathing.

Harry looked back, and saw that they were chatting kindly to a young Hufflepuff boy, and hoped that it would be enough to convince the rest not to discriminate againt them from the green colour of the badges sewed on their black robes.

Harry had to nearly yell over the shouts of the first and second years."All right, as you can see, I've decided to get the younger generation into the thick of things. What I'm going to do today, is catch up with our Patronuses.

"I know you're all eager to keep experimenting with wandless and soundless magic, but I realized that we still haven't completed that side of things, and if you run into a dementor, you're going to need it. The dementors aren't on our side any more, so they're going to be even more ruthless about just sucking everyone's souls right out of their bodies without a thought."

Harry then turned to Neville. "Neville, would you like to demonstrate?"

Neville smiled, and pulled out his new wand. "Expecto Patronum!" he called, and out of the tip of his wand, swam a large silver fish. It circled the Room of Requirement once, and the younger group stopped their practice to watch it.

The fish swam back to Neville, and he let it dissipate.

"Well done Neville!" said Harry amidst the applause.

"All right, those of you who have already been able to conjure a patronus may keep going with wandless and soundless magic. Just keep practicing with charms and hexes you know, and I'll circle the class and give pointers. Everyone who is still eagerly awaiting their patronus, please give it another try. I'll do my best to get to everyone. All you older students, don't hesitate to offer pointers to each other, and to the younger students. Please use constructive critisism. I won't have any insults thrown!" He said this mostly to Ron, who looked incredibly angry to be in the presence of the two young Slytherins.

The rest of the meeting was bedlam, what with shouts of 'Expelliarmus!" making books and things fly into the air around them, and silvery mists of semi-patronuses obscuring people's vision every once in awhile. Slowly they each improved, and by the time they went to leave at nine o'clock, Harry was satisfied that this new 'grouping' style of training could work very well.

He was even more enthused about his 'bigger better DA' when he saw Ron giving one of the Slytherins a few pointers on his grip. Ron had already successfully conjured a falcon patronus, and had moved over to help the young group with their disarming spell.

"Yeah, bend your index finger around, but keep a space here between those two. That's right, try it now."

"Expelliarmus!" the boy shouted as he pointed his wand.

His friend's wand went sailing out of his fingers, and across the room.

"I got it!" the boy looked as though he wanted to jump up and down. He beamed at Ron brightly.

"Hold on." Ron held out his hand to stop them from retrieving the displaced wand. He held up one hand and said "accio!" the wand flew to his fingers, and he grinned. "There's a way to get the wand to come directly to you when you disarm someone, so the enemy won't be able to retrieve it. Here..."

_Yes, _thought Harry_. This should work very well indeed._


	15. Quidditch

A/N: Thank you, everyone who has been reviewing my story. Especially Queen Weasel, as I believe you've reviewed every time I post. I'm glad you like it! This next chapter is a little dark once you get past the quidditch tryouts, but I hope that won't put a damper on the incoming reviews. (By the way, I've finished cutting the whole story up into chapters, and there are a grand total of fourty, so you see why I'm updating so quickly. I'm not completely done editing, but I'm doing that chapter by chapter as I post. I just get so frustrated with people who take weeks or even months to update!)

Disclaimer: Dobby is here to serve his masters, sir! Dobby is a good house elf!

**Chapter Fifteen - **

**Quidditch**

The rest of the week went by in a blur, and the next thing Harry knew, it was time for quidditch tryouts.

He'd had a very difficult time in potions that afternoon, with Snape alternately insulting him and ignoring him. Snape never once locked eyes with him and he had to wonder if maybe Snape was a little afraid of him.

Charms that morning hadn't been much better, and the two frustrating classes were enough to make Harry ready to loosen up with a bit of quiddich.

No such luck.

Ron was worse than Oliver Wood when it came to being fanatical about quiddich, and he worked them all like dogs.

"If this is just the tryouts, then what are the practices going to be like?" Harry asked Katie, hovering lightly next to her on his Firebolt. They were both sweating profusely and gasping for air. Katie Bell was the only chaser who had not graduated last year. She and Harry had been playing quiddich the same amount of time, and they both had a pretty good grasp of the game, so Harry trusted her opinion.

Katie sighed. "I hate to imagine it, but I think he'll do a good job. We may just have a chance at the cup again this year."

"So what do you think of this year's prospects?" he asked her.

"Of course I want Ginny as one of my chasers. She did an awesome job at seeking when you were banned, and she tells me she prefers chasing to seeking. I can't help but wonder if she's even better at that side of things."

"Kirke and Jack don't really like her, do they?" Harry said, eyeing their two beaters. The surly looking brutes were whispering to each other, pointing at the students trying out, and laughing.

"No, but they don't seem to like anyone. Don't worry, I think Ron said he was going to look out for possible replacements."

"Really? He didn't tell me that." Harry eyed them even closer.

"Yeah, but I can't really see anyone I'd prefer in this lot. These are all chaser material. None of them thought we'd be looking for beaters."

Harry looked back at the group that were racing up and down the pitch, and taking shots with the quaffle. Some were passing, and some dropping. One player who stood out, other than Ginny, was a third-year boy whose name Harry had forgotten.

"What about that boy?" Harry pointed. "The one taking a shot on goal now?"

The boy's shot went past Ron, and through the left hoop.

"Not bad." Said Katie. "He's a bit big for a chaser spot, but he's fast. I want to see how he works with Ginny."

As if Ron had heard their thoughts, he partnered everyone in threes, and Ginny and the nameless boy were in the same group.

They passed back and forth, circling imaginary bludgers and opponents. Ginny and the boy were on fire. They seemed to know where each other were without looking. The last one in their trio was the one to try and score, and Ron caught it, and passed it to the next three to see how they worked.

"Definitely that one. Do you think Ron noticed?" Katie asked.

"Of course he noticed. He's no fool." Harry grinned.

They were called into action then to act as the opposing team. Harry and Katie acted as chasers, while Andrew and Jack hit bludgers around them to see if any of them could be easily unseated. The beaters weren't really giving it their all, but it did weed out the few players who might not have been able to properly dodge a wall should it happen to be in their path.

When all had calmed, and the team hit the ground, everyone was sweating buckets, and quite a few of the prospective chasers grumbled about the pain they were in.

Ron didn't choose any of them right away. First he walked down the line, asking each what they would do if he were to select them. Some were outright rude, as this was the person who had caused them so much pain, but a couple were still quite enthusiastic, including the third year boy Harry and Katie had noticed. He was grinning ear-to-ear, and was somehow able to look very nervous at the same time.

Ron paced before the prospectives, and pretended to consult his clipboard. "Our two chasers this year will be Ben Rogers and Ginny. Thank you all for coming, and I hope you will all try out again next year."

A few people mumbled something about 'favoritism' and 'his sister', but the more intelligent ones understood that Ginny had gotten the place by pure talent. Besides, no one could say she hadn't been a good seeker for their team last year. She ran up to Ron and hugged him fiercely.

Harry moved forwards to a happily stunned looking Ben Rogers. He held out his hand. "Welcome to the Gryffindor quiddich team." He said honestly, and Ben shook Harry's hand with a spaced out look in his eyes.

"Thanks." He mumbled. "My dad was helping me practice all summer. He used to play for the Moosejaw Meteorites when he lived in Canada."

Harry thought he had detected a trace of an accent. "Is that where you're from?" he asked.

"I was born there, but we moved back here when I was eight. My mum got a job with the ministry as Canadian Embassador to the UK, and my dad wanted to retire early. He was born here."

"Well, lucky for us. We're more than happy to have the son of a professional player on our team."

"Thanks." Ben mumbled, still looking a little shocked.

Harry walked back to the change rooms with Ginny. "Good job!" he told her. "I told you you'd get it!"

She blushed. "At least I tried out, and didn't just expect favoritism."

"Hey, don't worry. Those others didn't see you from my perspective. You were really smoking out there!"

"Thanks." Ginny said. "I'll see you later!" and they separated to opposite change rooms.

000000

They had a celebration for Ginny and Ben in the Gryffindor Common Room that night, and to everyone's surprise, Fred and George were waiting for them with armloads of sweets and tricks.

"McGonagall let us in! She says students can have family visitors whenever they want."George slapped Ron's back heartily in greeting.

"It's just that most don't realize it." added Fred. "We thought you could all use some Gred and Forge style of fun!" He immediately handed a toffee to Ben, and before Harry, Ron, or Ginny had the chance to tell him that he shouldn't eat it, he had stuffed it in his mouth, and promptly sprouted moose antlers.

Ben laughed so hard Harry thought he was going to wet himself.

"Zoology toffees!" George announced, handing them out to a few students that walked in the door at that moment. "A different animal in each one!" Some of the students looked excited, but most of them wrinkled their noses and made a quiet attempt to pass the candy off to someone else or to accidentally let it slip out of their hands to the floor.

"Ben, you remember Fred and George, my brothers." Ron said, chuckling at Ben's new look.

"Course I do! Why would I have eaten that toffee if I didn't?!"

Ginny gaped at him. "You mean you knew it would do something like that?" she pointed to the tall antlers on his head.

"Yeah. I wanted to see what it would do!"

"All right." Ron said slowly, clearly thinking he may have made the wrong decision for his chaser. "Fred, George, this is Ben Rogers. He's our other new chaser along with Ginny."

"They both shook his hand, and Ben went off to join his fellow third years to tell them about his getting the chaser spot, and to show off his new style.

George scoffed at Ron. "Of course Ginny is the new chaser! Mum told us about your letter you wrote to her about getting the captain spot. Good on you!"

"And if you hadn't let Ginny into that spot, we would have had to murder you in your sleep!" added Fred.

Ginny looked livid. "Don't say anything like that ever again, Fred! I got the spot on talent, and don't you dare even suggest otherwise!"

"Don't worry Gin. Only teasing." Fred mumbled apologetically. He even looked a little frightened.

"We heard that today was your tryouts, so we figured we'd come down here and celebrate with you." George pulled more sweets out of his pockets and laid them on the table. "Here you are. All compliments of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes!"

"How is the shop doing?" Hermione asked brightly as she sauntered up behind Ron.

George shrugged. "Business is a little slow since Hogwarts started up again, but not all that bad, considering."

"And how's Percy?" Harry asked.

Fred answered. "He's doing much better. He's back to being a little more like himself, a bit quiet, but he's back to the Percy we all love to hate."

"He still doesn't want to come back to the Burrow, but that's all right. He's apologized to the family for ditching us, and he's practically hanging off of dad, isn't he Fred?"

Fred laughed. "We think he's trying to make up for all those things he said to dad just before he ditched us. Dad's been pretending that it never happened."

"Well that's all right." Ron said. "I was expecting it to be worse."

"Is he going to go back to work?" Ginny asked.

"He says he will, but he's going to take everything Fudge says to him with a grain of salt from now on."

They partied late, and Fred and George were a big hit with their new trick sweets. Even Hermione joined in, and grew herself an attractive elephant's trunk for a few minutes.

Ron, who was slowly shedding a squirrel's tail was the first to head up to the dormitories, and Harry followed behind him tugging embarrassedly at the donkey ears he still had. Both lost their animal features as they readied themselves for bed.

"Good job at the tryouts by the way." He told Ron. "You picked the good ones."

"I still don't understand why McGonagall chose me." Ron said seriously.

Harry chuckled. "She must've seen the Oliver Wood in you. My muscles are aching, and I wasn't even the one trying out!"

"Sorry." Said Ron, not sounding it at all.

They both lay back in their beds, and drew the curtains. Harry lay awake for a long time listening to Ron's snores, and to Seamus, Neville and Dean, who came in a little later.

Harry was thinking about Sirius again. He knew his father had been Seeker for the Gryffindor team when he was young, but had Sirius been on the team too? Harry regretted all the things he had never asked him, and resolved to write to Remus immediately the next morning.

000000

_'Hello Harry.'_

_"Sirius!!" Harry's heart began to pound._

_'How are you. I've missed you.'_

_"I've missed you too Sirius, I've been miserable."_

_'Why?'_

_"Because I'll have to live the rest of my life without you."_

_Sirius laughed, and it sounded like a bark. 'I'm here now aren't I?'_

_Harry didn't answer. He was too busy feeling sorry for himself._

'_So what's this I hear about a prophecy?'_

"_It's so horrible Sirius. I can't do it."_

'_Maybe if you tell me all about it, I can help?'_

_Something was wrong with that statement. "Sirius, you're dead. You can't help me."_

'_What makes you so certain I can't help? Tell me.'_

_Harry shuddered. Something was incredibly wrong here. "Who are you." Harry asked angrily. You aren't Sirius!"_

'_Yes I am, don't be silly.'_

_Harry's heart nearly stopped as he realized the problem. "No you're not! You're VOLDEMORT!" _

_He screamed as the face of his godfather twisted into the serpentine features of the Dark Lord. The loving grey eyes crackled and turned red and full of hate._

000000

Harry screamed and sat up in bed, cold sweat running down his face. He leapt from under the covers, not looking over to see if he had woken any of the others. He grabbed his glasses and his wand from the bedside stand, and practically ran to Professor McGonagall's quarters. 

He banged on the door loudly and after about a minute of this, professor McGonagall answered in her tartan lounging robe. She looked a little blurry eyed, and very surprised to see Harry on the other side of her door.

"Professor, I'm sorry to bother you at this hour, but I need to talk!"

"By all means, come into my office." She held the door aside, and they both walked through a second door to the office area Harry knew had a main entrance to the left of the Gryffindor fat lady portrait. He briefly wondered how this was possible, since McGonagall's quarters, and her office were actually on opposite sides of Gryffindor Tower. The thought slipped his mind, as his panic took over. The trivialities of Hogwarts castle could wait.

"I've just had a dream about Voldemort again."

McGonagall gasped. "Was someone hurt?"

"Oh, no. It wasn't like that. He was trying to trick me again. I forgot to practice my occlumency before I went to bed, and he got into my dream. No one was attacked. I knew something was wrong, and once I saw that it was him, he left."

"Are you sure, Mister Potter?" McGonagall looked concerned.

"Very sure, however, I thought professor Dumbledore should know that he hasn't given up on the prophecy."

She gasped.

"He came to me pretending... pretending to be Sirius." Harry took off his glasses, and pinched the bridge of his nose to keep from crying. "He tried to trick me into telling him what I know."

McGonagall looked at him sharply. "You know the prophecy?"

"Well it's about me isn't it."

"I wouldn't know." She said.

"You don't _want_ to." Harry answered a little more sharply than he'd intended.

"All right, Potter. I'll let professor Dumbledore know what you've told me."

"Thank you." Harry said quietly.

She paused. "Are you all right Harry?" She somehow forgot to look strict as she asked.

It was the first time that she had ever called him by just his first name, and perhaps that was why as soon as she opened her arms to him, he then found himself in her arms, sniffling back tears, and telling her all the details of his dream. Mostly he told her about how Sirius' face had morphed hideously into that of Voldemort, and about how upset he was about Sirius' death. He told her how all that he had ever wanted was to have some happy place to live where people listened to him. He told her how he now felt that that sort of home was out of his reach forever, and how guilty he felt saying that, since Sirius had meant more to him than just a nice family.

After a few minutes of this, Harry realized what he must look like. He was sixteen years old for crying out loud! He was almost taller than McGonagall herself! He must really look like a baby. He tried to pull away, and wipe his eyes, but she held him tightly and let him rest his head on her shoulder.

He suddenly realized how comfortable he was. The thought was disturbing, but he didn't push away from her.

It felt very much like having a mother. Or perhaps a Grandmother, taking into account McGonagall's age. The thought sent more tears streaming down Harry's cheeks, although if he were completely honest with himself, he might have admitted that they were tears of happiness.

"I understand completely." She mumbled into his hair. "I've lost many loved ones too. Some just because it was their time, and some -such as your parents- in the first war. It's hard having something you've wanted for so long to be so close, and then to lose it all in one fell swoop. I know you feel guilty for thinking about it that way. I do too."

Harry stared up at her, surprised.

"Yes, I did have a husband once, although only for a very short time." She sighed, remembering. "Don't let go of that guilt, Harry. It's not pleasant to have, but it's healthy. Especially since you know, somewhere inside you that it's not really your fault."

Harry took a deep breath, and sighed. Hearing her say that felt very good, and he was able to get himself back under control. "Thank you." He mumbled.

She patted his back, and conjured him a glass of water. She promised that any time he needed to talk again, she would be there to listen. She walked Harry back up to his dormitory, and as she turned to go, Harry said, "Wait."

She turned back toward him.

"If you would like, you can ask professor Dumbledore about the prophecy. He'll be able to show you what she said."

McGonagall's eyebrows lifted. "She?"

Harry nodded. "Trelawney."

McGonagall's face was suddenly very angry. "She's been telling students lies to frighten them since the first day she was here. I wouldn't believe her if I were you." She was sounding quite a bit like Ron at that very moment, and Harry couldn't help but smile. He had the feeling she wasn't supposed to be discussing her colleagues with a student in such a callous manner, but he also got the impression that she didn't feel much like she was speaking with a student.

"This one is real. She seems to only have the ability to tell prophecies about me. The one I'm talking about now is only the first of three. Just ask professor Dumbledore. You'll see."

She nodded, although she still seemed quite skeptical.

"Thank you professor."

She smiled, and Harry saw her spine straighen minutely as the word 'professor' hit her sense of dignity. "Any time." They went their separate ways.

Harry decided he would not be telling his friends about his dream the next morning. Not because he didn't want them to worry, but because he was trying his hardest to forget the whole thing. He hardly got any more sleep that night as it was. He spent the entire night alternately meditating, trying to banish all of his emotions, and thinking about asking McGonagall if she would mind adopting him. By the time the sun came up, he had realized the futility and stupidity of such an arrangement, and had gone back to meditating.

In fact, Harry had considerably less sleep the whole weekend.

Saturday he had planned to go in to Hogsmeade with everyone, and backing out would have been unacceptable. If his friends were going to be away from the castle, he knew he would have to be with them. If not for fun, then at least to keep them safe.

The only one who was not present in Hogsmeade was Neville, who was off visiting with his parents for the day. He returned in the evening in ebulliant spirits, and had to tell them all exactly what had transpired. They were as he had said, talking now, even though they were incredibly forgetful and sometimes a little childish in attitude. Still, Neville had to explain everything about how beautiful his mother's voice was, and how charming his father had been. Harry was very happy for him, so he stayed up to listen to the stories.

Sunday morning Ron woke everyone early for their first quidditch practice, and in the afternoon, Harry had quite a bit of homework to catch up on for classes the next day. Besides which, Neville had effectively emptied their dormitory by screeching away on his cello. Harry didn't think he could possibly sleep through that. Especially since it sounded very much as though someone were trying to murder Crookshanks.

By the time Monday rolled around, he still hadn't made up the missed sleep from Friday night. Harry reluctantly dragged himself out of bed for classes, looking blurry-eyed and worn out.

Trelawney's Defense class was not quite as funny now as it had been the week before, as Trelawney had decided that the only acceptable defensive charms to use were basic shield charms. Harry knew them all quite well, but it didn't stop him from being incredibly frustrated with her style. She wouldn't show the charm to them, only ranted on for an hour about how dangerous it could be if any spell rebounded in the wrong direction. She emphasized the importance of aiming a rebound away from the attacker, then proceeded to demonstrate in a rather halfhearted and clumsy fashion.

He had earned a detention from McGonagall by almost passing out on his desk in transfiguration, and knew that he would not be getting to bed as early that night as he'd hoped. As much as McGonagall had been willing to listen to him and act like the mother he'd never known, she was still his professor, and her duty would come first. She had given him a little pat on the arm as she reprimanded him, and he understood her meaning. He would probably be able to catch up on sleep in her detention on Wednesday, as long as she was still in an accomodating mood, and he hadn't done anything else to get her riled.

He found it infinitely easier to space out in Potions, but avoided looking at Snape at all costs. Mostly he took notes and chopped up ingredients. He didn't dare begin to brew, because he knew he would need more attention if he wanted to get a reasonable mark on his gravity potion.

As it was, Snape took fourty points away from Gryffindor. Twenty from Harry for working too slowly, and twenty from Neville, whose gravity potion had become so heavy that it collapsed the desk they were working at, and left a sizeable dent in the stone of the dungeon floor.

The entire week seemed to drag on like this, even the ebullient professor Vector wasn't able to snap him out of it with her newest topics of 'Equality for Witches,' that slowly morphed into 'Magic as Abstract Thought.' Harry found the subject more boring than even history of magic, although he was unable to stop himself from turning brilliantly red at her decision to keep naming him as an example of a 'light wizard'. It seemed to be the only thing he actually heard from her. Hearing his own name made him wake up a little each time, then when he realized that he wasn't in trouble, he would sink back down into a slouch, and try not to get noticed.

He didn't have another meeting of Dumbledore's Army until Thursday night, at which point Harry had finally been able to catch up on some of the sleep he'd missed in McGonagall's detention the night before, and was feeling slightly more refreshed.

The older group had all suceeded in conjuring their corporeal patronuses, and most were focusing on wandless and soundless magic. One of the greatest surprises came when Neville was the first and only member to be able to repeatedly combine both techniques. He had very little difficulty demonstrating this ability with the defensive spells he had learned last year, but was almost useless when it came to conjuring and transfiguration. Harry guessed that this was because of his lack of confidence in his transfiguration classes. He had barely passed his OWL after all, and wasn't taking the class anymore. Hermione had promised to tutor Neville so he could keep experimenting with his wandless ability.

The others were quite good when they needed to do one or the other, but none of them had been able to combine with the same skill as Harry or Neville. Hermione had succeeded once, but she hadn't been able to repeat the performance.

Before anyone got too frustrated, Harry decided to work on some more advanced shield charms. To keep things sort of in line with the younger group, he showed them two of the more basic shields, and had them use them to protect themselves from the disarming charm. He made sure to emphasize the idea that you could use the shields as a form of attack as well, just by aiming the rebound correctly. Ron and Hermione smirked at him confiently, while Parvati and Lavender simply frowned at him, and refused point blank to follow his instructions. Harry had to just shrug his shoulders and let them go about their business. He insisted however, that they learn to aim their rebound anyhow, explaining that 'if they didn't want to hurt someone, the least they could do was use the targets.' He knew they would change their minds if they ever encountered a real battle.

Harry was surprised at how satisfying it was to see them all progressing so quickly. He felt that they might soon be beyond him, and made a mental note to look up some defensive strategy so they could have a discussion class about it or something. He'd always had a good time talking theory with Remus, and none of the students here had ever experienced any theory except with that horrible Umbridge woman.

Writing to Remus for a few more ideas couldn't hurt either.

Harry's next letter to his friend was filled to the brim with defense strategy and theory questions. The whole thing was three parchments long. As he watched Hedwig fly out the tower window with a distinct effort to ignore the weight of the scroll, he thought about how he had never before written a longer letter to anyone, including Sirius.

The thought made him feel immensely guilty.

But he could live with that guilt.


	16. Gryffindor the Brave and Hufflepuff the ...

A/N: Chapter Seventeen is where this story really takes off, so just keep your liederhosen on, and you'll get the goods in a few days. (By the way, am I the only loser in this existence who actually owns a Hogwarts mousepad?)

Centaur Disclaimer: Look to the heavens and they will give us clues to discern the future value of these words. What's that? Oh, no not the star. It's further over. Right there. It's unseen... what humans often call a black hole...

**Chapter Sixteen -**

**Gryffindor The Brave and Hufflepuff The Just**

The first quidditch game of the season for Gryffindor, was against Hufflepuff the weekend before Hallowe'en

Ravenclaw and Slytherin had already played earlier that month, and although Slytherin had won, it had been a minor win. The final score had been Slytherin 260 to 200 for Ravenclaw. It had been a long game, but very exciting until Malfoy had gone and ruined it all, and caught the snitch.

At least, Harry heard it had been exciting. He had been given a detention by Snape that day, and he hadn't been allowed to watch. The vicious Snape had escaped to watch the game leaving Harry to the mercy of a rather surly looking, axe-brandishing suit of armour that had raised his axe in threat every time Harry even thought about taking a break from pickling spider-eyes.

The Gryffindor and Hufflepuff teams had been working themselves so hard that Harry had only been able to have one DA meeting in the last three weeks. _Gryffindor had better win today._ Harry thought, flexing his shoulders.

"All right everyone. This is what we've worked for." Ron said, sounding a little nervous. "We can do this. Our team is awesome this year. Just keep your eyes open, and your brooms moving, and we can't fail. And Harry..."

"Yup?"

"Please catch the snitch or it's my arse on the line."

Harry laughed. "Don't worry, I can do it."

They heard their names called by a new announcer... who sounded familiar.

"Hey! It's Mark!" Harry said to Ben as they soared out of the gate.

"Who?" Ben asked, looking around.

"The announcer!" Harry called back. "Mark Evans! He lives in my aunt and uncle's neighbourhood!"

"Oh." Ben said, sounding a little confused as to why Harry was telling him this.

Harry realized someone who had probably grown up in a wizarding community would have no appreciation for the elation a muggle-raised wizard felt when finding out he was not alone in his neighbourhood.

"Oh, don't worry about it." Harry answered with a laugh.

They flew into position, and waited for Madam Hooch's whistle...

They were off.

Mark's voice rang out over the stands. Obviously he'd been studying the game intensely. For a muggle-born in his first-year, he was doing a very good job.

"Weasley's saved it! He passes the quaffle to Weasley, and she takes off, pass to Rogers, and to Bell, back to Rogers, quaffle intercepted by Finch-Fletchley! He takes off toward Gryiffindor goalposts, passes to Smith, back to Finch Fletchley, and it's a bludger there from Kirke, and the quaffle goes back to Gryffindor. Weasley to Bell, and back to Weasley. She passes to Rogers and they're almost there. Back to Bell, and Bell shoots, She SCORES! And it's ten nothing to Gryffindor!"

Harry smiled. These new Chasers certainly were worth it. They were doing quite well. He kept his eyes roving the pitch, looking for the snitch.

"Hufflepuff in possession, Smith with the quaffle, and he passes to Finch-Fletchley over to McCoy. Bludgers are keeping the Gryffindor Chasers busy. Quaffle is within the scoring area. Quick pass to Smith, He SCORES! Ten- ten is the score, and Gryffindor takes possession!"

All in all, the game was well played. Gryffindor had better chasers, but Hufflepuff had better beaters, and they knew it. Ron was neck and neck with their keeper, but he didn't lose confidence, and he continued to save quite a few goals.

Mark's commentary was very good, but lacked the dramatic flair Lee Jordan used to have when he would throw in comments like "Johnson with the quaffle, she's a good-looking chaser there, and she still hasn't agreed to go out with me yet!" Nor did Mark have quite the propensity for swearing at the opposing players as Lee. Harry was just waiting for Mark to give away his obvious bias towards the Gryffindor team as Lee had. But he didn't do it

Mark's commentary was very to the point, and he was still able to keep people's hype about the game up. Harry thought he was very good.

It also meant, that because Mark commented on every play, unlike Lee, Harry didn't have to spend a lot of his time looking at what was happening around him. He could spend all of his time looking for the snitch. He circled quite quickly compared to Fields the Hufflepuff seeker, and it meant that he could cover a larger area. As far as Harry was concerned, Fields was looking too hard. He had to sort of blur his eyes on a bright day like this and just give a general sweep of an area. If the snitch was there, he would catch a small glint of gold in the sunlight.

By the time he saw it, the game was eighty to seventy for Gryffindor, and Harry was very grateful that he was closer to the little fluttering gold ball. Harry didn't want to have to sneak in, and steal it from under Field's nose or anything. He liked having a relaxing game, and this certainly felt pleasant. He was almost tempted to let the snitch go this time, to let the game drag on a bit, but the thought that they were still pretty close in score made him decide to go for it now. He knew that when they played Ravenclaw and Slytherin later in the year, it would probably not be quite so nice, and they could use the advantage in points now to get ahead.

He swooped in easily, and clasped the struggling ball in his fist. It took a moment for Mark to realize what Harry had done, and then it was bedlam. This was where Mark really took off in his commentating.

"I can't bloody well believe it! Potter's caught the snitch, and the final score will be a damned hefty two hundred and thirty to seventy for Gryffindor! We'll most certainly be having a party in the common room after this! Eat my shorts Hufflepuffmph!"

McGonagall had slapped her hand over Mark's mouth, and she quickly took the microphone away while she berated him.

Harry was glad that Mark had waited until the end of the game to let off all of that steam. It was useful to have someone telling him what was actually happening in the game for once.

000000

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were studying in the Common room the next day. Harry however, was barely concentrating. He had been thinking for a few days now that Ron and Hermione were still being left out of everything, and it was high time they knew that he'd been inducted into the Order. Unfortunately he couldn't think of any way to let them know, without going against Dumbledore's orders.

All three were all feeling a little groggy as they had stayed up late at the party for the Gryffindor quidditch team. Hermione especially kept slumping in her seat, and letting her head hit her open book. She looked a little pale, and Harry couldn't help but comment.

"Are you all right Hermione? You don't look so well."

Ron's eyes lifted from his scratching quill, and took in Hermione's slightly green complexion. "You really don't look well." He agreed narrowing his eyes.

"I'm just a little tired. I'll be all right." She mumbled. Her head sunk down to rest on her book, and it stayed there.

"Hermione?" Ron asked, looking a little shocked.

She didn't answer, so Ron stood, and went around the table to jiggle her on the shoulder. "Hermione? Maybe if you're this tired, you should go to bed."

"I'm just resting my eyes." She mumbled, and she shrugged her shoulder to knock off Ron's hand.

Harry chuckled. "Resting your eyes, and your head, and pretty much every other part of your body, yeah. Hermione, I think you should go up to bed."

"No." She said sharply, and the entire Gryffindor common room leapt in surprise as one of the crystal chandeliers on the wall exploded, and little bits of broken crystal rained to the floor.

"Uh-oh." Said Harry.

"Uh, Hermione?" Ron had pulled his hand away from her shoulder, but he poked her to get her attention.

"What?!" Another crash, and the sound of tinkling glass made Hermione look up at the shattered window. "Did I do that?" She asked, looking bewildered.

"Um, I think you did." Ron said, pressing his lips together nervously.

"Oh." She said, obviously thinking hard about it. "I guess I'd better let McGonagall know."

"Hermione, remember not to use any magic right now, you might overdo it."

"I know." She nearly tripped as she stood up, and Ron had to reach over to steady her. The parchment on which she had been taking notes suddenly burst into flame. Harry quickly sprayed water from the tip of his wand to put it out.

Ron had released Hermione, and he looked almost as if he were a little afraid to touch her again.

"I'll just go see McGonagall now." Hermione muttered as she stumbled out of the common room, leaving a very shocked looking Ron and Harry behind her.

"I'm starting to see why McGonagall doesn't like to mention it." Harry said. "It's not exactly hard to miss. And I have the feeling this could be a little embarassing for Hermione."

"Do you think we should follow her, just to make sure she's all right?"

"It couldn't hurt." Harry slapped his book closed, and the two of them followed Hermione out to McGonagall's office.

Hermione was leaning against the wall outside of the office door, panting as if she had just run a marathon.

"Hermione are you all right? Is professor McGonagall not here?"

"I think she's out." Said Hermione, sounding a little dazed. "Am I all right?" she asked uselessly.

"Er, I think that's what we asked you." Ron pointed out.

"Do you think you should go see Madam Pomfrey?" Harry asked her.

"I think I'll go see Madam Pomfrey."

Hermione didn't seem to realize that she was repeating what Harry had just said.

"Do you need our help?" Ron asked, looking worried.

"Er... maybe." She mumbled. "I'm feeling a little dizzy."

Harry and Ron walked on either side of her, propping her up from time to time, making sure she didn't trip or collapse.

It was just their luck that they should run into Malfoy and his cronies at a time like this.

"Hey there Scarhead." Malfoy snickered. He then took in the pale form of Hermione being half-supported between both Harry and Ron. "Well, well... Mudbloods do seem to have all the fun, don't they."

Hermione hadn't really understood much of what Harry and Ron had said to her earlier, but she obviously did understand the word 'Mudblood' coming out of Malfoy's filth-ridden mouth.

Harry and Ron suddenly felt a sizzle of heat go through Hermione, and they pulled their hands away in alarm just as she leapt forwards.

POW!

Hermione had punched Malfoy in the nose. He put his hands up to his face, with a scream of indignation. Blood spurted out through his fingers and soaked the front of his robes. Crabbe and Goyle stepped forward, flexing their shoulders and trying to look as menacing as they could. Another second, and they would have made muggle-born mincemeat.

Hermione had drawn back her fist to let fly at Malfoy once more, when Harry and Ron gave themselves a mental slap. They took hold of her arms and dragged her back away from the swinging fists of Malfoy's brutes.

The hulking Slytherins charged forwards to follow, and another chandelier exploded from somewhere above. It rained sharp chunks of heavy glass around the thugs. They stopped swinging to duck and cover their heads, and Harry looked back to see them wincing as angry red welts were sliced open along their bare arms, and huge rips appeared in the fabric of their robes.

"Hermione, we have to go now!" Harry attempted to drag her down the hall towards the infirmary, and he nudged the shell-shocked Ron to get him moving faster than a stunned amble.

Harry pulled Hermione all the way to the hospital wing, while Ron trailed behind them looking a little afraid to come anywhere near Hermione. Halfway there, Ron had to stop and stomp out a small blaze that had begun at the bottom of an expensive looking tapestry.

"Madam Pomfrey, we've got a bit of a problem!" called Harry, as they walked into the wing.

Poppy Pomfrey stuck her head out of her office door. "Can I help you?" then she spotted Hermione's pale features, and gasped. "Help her on to one of the beds please. Do you have any idea what's happened?"

"A bit too much of an idea." Ron answered. He moved forward to help Hermione on to the bed, but stepped back away when the glass bottle beside the bed exploded.

"Oh, I see." Said Madam Pomfrey. "This does seem rather more severe than usual." She spotted bits of blood on Hermione's knuckles, and gasped once more, examining them closely. "Has she been fighting?"

"You'll probably find out soon enough." Harry answered, and sure enough, only seconds later, Malfoy came in cradling his bloody nose, and Crabbe and Goyle followed, holding out their mutilated arms while trails of blood dripped along the stone floor below them.

"She did all that?!" Pomfrey looked shocked, quickly pulling a curtain around Hermione's bed.

"Uh, yeah." Ron answered, looking both worried and slightly proud at the same time.

000000

Hermione seemed to have gotten her wish that her Agoramorphosis not remain a secret, as almost all of the Gryffindor sixth-years had been present during the rather explosive beginning to the experience. None of them were mean enough to blab about it to the rest of the school, but Malfoy wasn't so kind. He was busily telling all of the Slytherins that Hermione had gone off her rocker, and was due to take the first train back to St.Mungo's. Pretty soon the whole school was convinced that Hermione had completely lost her mind, and would undoubtedly never be the same again.

As it was, Madam Pomfrey was keeping her safely sedated. She said it was the most powerful Agoramorphosis she had ever seen, and was a little afraid to let her just go about her business as usual. Even the first few potions she'd been given hadn't been enough, although she did seem to gather her control enough to accidentally transfigure the next door bed into a couch instead of setting it on fire or blowing it up. It was a start, but Madam Pomfrey insisted that she could be a danger to herself and to others if she weren't completely knocked out.

When Hermione woke up after a whole week, she was quite embarrassed and a little upset that she had missed so much school as well as the Hallowe'en feast.

"Don't worry, you didn't miss much. It was good, but the same as usual." Ron promised her.

"You did miss one DA meeting." Harry said in a whisper. "We did some things on self-levitation, but I know you can catch on pretty quickly."

She smiled. "I'm going to have to study like crazy to catch up. A whole week missed!" She sighed. "And that essay I wrote for Snape is completely ruined!"

At that moment, Hedwig flew through the window. She hooted affectionately at Harry, and he took the note she carried off her leg. He handed her an owl treat, and she chomped it down quickly.

_Harry_

_Would you like to come down and have some tea? Just you please, I've got news._

_Hagrid._

Harry found it difficult to slide away from Hermione and Ron without them noticing. It was especially difficult since they had both been watching curiously as he read.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked innocently when she noticed him trying to slip away behind the curtain. She was due to leave the infirmary just as soon as madam Pomfrey returned with a last potion.

"Um... Nowhere."

Ron and Hermione's faces were screwed up with a mix of curiosity and anger. There was nothing more Harry wanted than to tell them where he was going, but he remembered his promise to Dumbledore. An idea suddenly popped into his mind.

Harry looked at them pleadingly. "I'll tell you when I have permission to tell. I can't just yet." He knew he was being evasive and mysterious, but he had wanted this reaction from them. They were both looking at him curiously as he turned abruptly and left the room.

He sauntered slowly down to Hagrid's cabin, waiting hopefully for some sign that he was being watched. He felt a curious sizzle of awareness run down his spine, and he looked furtively up at the windows of the infirmary. A bushy brown head quickly stepped back from the open window.

"Hello Hagrid!" He called out as he approached the small cabin. A single trail of smoke was drifting from the chimney, and Hagrid was waiting patiently on the front steps.

He whispered to Hagrid once he was close enough. "You have news?"

Hagrid nodded, and beckoned him inside with a massive wave of his palm. Harry's first instinct was to put a silencing charm on the house, and he would have felt a little better with one surrounding him immediately, but that was contrary to his current intentions.

Instead, he took a long dark look around the walls and into the darkest corner. He didn't want to make Hagrid suspicious, but he needed to stall for time.

He looked momentarily out the window, and noticed a shock of red hair flit past behind the animal paddock. Harry then cast a silencing charm as large as he could, hoping against hope that the animal paddock was included in that space, and that his friend had been intelligent enough to bring a pair of extendable ears.

"All right Hagrid, what did you want to say?"

"Things are getting bad." Hagrid said sorrowfully. "There's been a few more killings of muggles, and one wizard dead."

Harry's eyes widened. "No! Is it anyone I know?"

Hagrid shook his head, although he looked intensely sad about the whole thing.

"Do you know what their next intentions are?"

"According to professor Snape, they want to attack here at Hogwarts."

"What!?" Harry nearly shouted, beginning to panic.

"Yeh, well, they haven't told him anythin' specific. He's come under a bit of suspicion recently, and they're keeping some things from him. Besides, the professor thinks you-know-who knows he's gota bit of an... erm... soft spot... for the school."

Harry snorted. He couldn't see Snape having any sort of soft spot. He also knew that as much as he hated Snape, it could be very dangerous for everyone if Snape was discovered to be working for the Order of the Phoenix.

"What made them suspicious of him?"

"You-know-who was upset at losing Percy to us, and he knew Snape hadn't been available for contact that night. Then he saw that Snape was missing when he attacked Azkaban. He's not the only one under suspicion, but he's the most important to us. Really, it'll only be a matter of time before the truth comes out somehow."

Harry pulled out a chair from the table, and sat at it looking very sullen. "It's all my fault isn't it?"

Hagrid shook his head emphatically. "You can't blame yerself because you wanted to save Percy! It's not up to you to decide what you-know-who thinks!"

"When and how are they going to attack?"

"Well the when is around Christmas when most of the teachers and students are gone to visit their families. It's still a month and a half away, so their plans might change. The how is a little more sketchy. We don't really know what he's doing or how many Death-Eaters will be sent. We don't think you-know-who himself is involved in this one, it's more of a sack, pillage and burn type of thing. Mostly it's his newest recruits. They want to prove themselves against Dumbledore's wards."

Harry was horrified. How could someone possibly feel that it would be all right to kill and hurt innocent students and teachers just to prove themselves? "How much help do we have from the ministry?"

Hagrid sighed. "They've told us we can call them any time, but we don't know who to trust in that group other than those who have already joined the Order. Dumbledore's especially uncertain about telling Fudge. The ministry mostly haven't been alerted about this. It's only Shacklebolt what's told us this, since he's a big part of Auror intelligence."

"What can I do to help?"

"Not much really, except sign up to go back to headquarters for Christmas."

"No! Hagrid, I can't just stay out of it! I need to be here!"

Hagrid's brow furrowed, and he stroked his beard thoughtfully. "You know Dumbledore won't let you fight."

Harry very nearly pitched the tea pot across the room, but restrained himself with the thought that he knew Hagrid was right and that he still wasn't ready to fight. All of his fighting with Death-Eaters in the past consisted of Harry ducking for cover, and the Death-Eaters shooting random spells over his head until they accidentally hit another Death-Eater. It had been mostly luck, and the next time Harry fought with them, he wanted to be a force to be reckoned with.

Harry closed his eyes and took three calming breaths. "Who seems to be in charge of the fight?"

"You don't want to know."

"It's Bellatrix Lestrange, isn't it?" Harry asked the question already knowing the answer.

Hagrid nodded.

"They're mostly after me and my group aren't they?"

"Well, yeh see, they know you usually stay behind for Christmas, and that you've got a bunch of mates what stay with you. Professor Dumbledore figured that if you signed up to go away, they would go off and leave Hogwarts alone."

Harry sighed. So there was a way he could help after all. He could leave. He tried to convince himself that no matter the circumstances, he wasn't being a coward and running away. It didn't completely work.

"I'll sign up to go home for Christmas then."

Hagrid nodded and smiled thinly. "That's a real help to us. I'll keep you posted with what's goin' on."

"Thanks Hagrid." Harry said sadly, and turned to leave.

"Wait a minute, didn't you want to get a chance to practice your mind stuff on me?"

Harry turned back, "Not right now Hagrid. I'm not feeling all that great."

"All right then, come down later and see me."

"Okay." Harry took the silencing charm off the house, and slowly walked back up to the castle.

"Harry?" He heard Ron's voice from behind him, and turned.

Ron looked as though he had been dipped into a vat of chalk his face was so white. "Harry is it true?"

Harry didn't say anything. He had promised not to tell, and that included saying yes to any question, but that didn't include accidentally letting Ron hear all of the information from Hagrid.

Ron seemed to understand however, and simply walked beside Harry while they made their way up to the infirmary.

"Is Hermione all right?" Harry asked. What he really wanted to ask was, "Why didn't Hermione join you?"

"She's been given her last potion from Madam Pomfrey, and she's been told to go and rest up in Gryffindor Tower."

Harry snorted. "If I know Hermione, she's already gone to all of her teachers, and is right now finishing up all of her leftover homework. She'll be sitting in the middle of Gryffindor Tower with six books open in front of her when we get there."

"You said it." Ron nodded.

They were correct in that Hermione was sitting in the middle of the Gryffindor Common Room when they arrived, but she had no books open, and seemed to be staring intently at the empty table top.

Harry and Ron sat down beside her. "Are you all right Hermione?" Ron asked.

She glared at him briefly from under a furrowed brow, not lifting her head. "I'm concentrating all right?" she said hotly.

Harry almost smiled. "Concentrating on what?"

Hermione didn't answer, but she didn't need to. The table beneath their resting elbows suddenly disappeared and in it's place sat a small duck.

It quacked loudly while Harry and Ron scrambled to regain their equilibrium.

"Hermione! Did you do that?" Harry asked surprised.

Hermione smiled proudly at them. "It's so exciting! I've been able to combine wandless and soundless magic to try out my transfiguration! On purpose!"

"I can see that." Ron mumbled, "Now can you bring the table back?"

"Oh, sure!" She stared at the duck, and a minute later the table was back. It looked far more ornate than the original table had ever been, and all of the black marks and scratches that had been left by various students' quills and ink had completely disappeared.

"Bloody hell!" Ron said, admiring the table, then looking intently at Hermione, who just grinned enthusiastically back.

"What else can you do?" Harry asked curiously.

Hermione shrugged. "To be honest, I think that's it. I was pretty good at transfiguration before, but now it's like everything I've ever learned about transfiguration just comes to me almost without thinking! Professor McGonagall is going to absolutely love this! And this whole soundless wandless magic is going to be so incredibly useful!"

"You have no idea how useful" Harry muttered thinking about the possibility of battle.

"What?" Hermione asked, looking at Ron and Harry's chalky complexions.

Harry nodded to Ron, as if to let him know it was all right to tell her, but that he couldn't. Ron nodded back to let him know he understood, and Harry left the two of them alone to discuss it by themselves.

There was nothing he wanted more than to gather some feedback about what he had just heard, but he knew that if he were present, he would want to put his own thoughts into the conversation, and that would surely violate his agreement with Dumbledore.


	17. In the Shrieking Shack

A/N: This is where the story really takes off. It becomes less a collaboration of many stories, and much more of a single enjoyable unit. Just wait until Christmas!

Buckbeak Disclaimer: Swawkroar!

**Chapter Seventeen - **

**In the Shrieking Shack**

"Harry, I'd like to show you something I've learned after the meeting. I'd like you and a couple others to stay." Luna Lovegood had pulled Harry aside during DA, and whispered the request to him.

Harry nodded, and continued trying to offer tips to Hannah Abbott about her dissillusionment charm. She had been able to make Ernie Macmillan go half-chameleon, and at the moment his legs from the waist down were walking around on their own, and his hands moved about of their own accord. A blur of foggy colour at his waist and wrists, where the spell had dissolved made many of the younger people take a few nervous steps back. Harry wouldn't allow any of the younger group to shoot off hexes in case they accidentally hit an invisible student, so he had them off in a corner learning the four-point spell, and a few interesting new shields.

There were three new members in the younger group today, one Hufflepuff first-year, and two more Slytherin second-years. The two first year Slytherins had strategically introduced them to Harry, and they'd had a thorough conversation before Harry had realized that he was supposed to invite them to join the DA. Harry was pleased that he'd been able to interview them thoroughly before giving them any information, but wished he'd known the two first-years' intentions ahead of time. He was reminded of how sneaky and cunning some Slytherins could really be, but also of how useful the ability was.

At the moment, just under half of the room was seemingly empty. They had been practicing for quite awhile, and when Harry looked at his watch he realized that the meeting had already overrun by ten minutes. He noticed Luna speaking quietly with what he thought could be an invisible Neville and a very visible Ginny, and assumed she had just invited them to stay as well.

"All right everyone, that's it for today. Anyone who still hasn't figured out the counter charm, please come to me and I'll do it for you. If you practice these, make sure you have someone nearby who knows the counter charm, otherwise people might wonder."

Light laughter rolled through the half-invisible crowd, and Harry saw the ripples of air move in tandem towards him. He saw two invisible ripples bump into one another and fall to the floor.

"Pay as much attention to where the others in the room are please, I don't want any accidents. Are you all right...um... Seamus? And er...Lavender?"

A low grunt and a frustrated feminie exclamation from the floor was the only response.

Harry quickly rapped the head of each human chameleon that rippled the air before him, and gradually, the class reappeared.

Finally, when most of the class had gone, Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Neville and Luna were the only ones left behind. It wasn't odd for these people to remain and help organize the room a bit, so no one had bothered to look at them twice. No one had really noticed that the room needed no organizing other than to put a few cushions away.

Luna began. "I've asked you all to stay, because as we were the ones in the Department of Mysteries last year, I know that we're the ones who are really in danger of attack. I think we can use as much help in disguise and tracking as can get."

Everyone nodded solemnly. Harry's face had gone from smiling interestedly to frowning and looking at his shoes. It was his fault that they needed extra help in stealth.

"That's why I wanted to show you this." She said, and suddenly she popped out of existence.

"What? Where'd she go?" Ron pushed himself up off of the floor where he was sitting on a cushion, and moved toward where Luna had been standing moments before. "She's disapparated! Isn't that supposed to be impossible inside-"

"Ron! Stop!" yelled Neville, and he grabbed the back of Ron's robes, and yanked him back.

All eyes turned on Neville. Neville was staring at the floor, which made them all search out what he was looking at.

"Ah! Oh my!" Hermione shrieked. She had spotted what Neville had seen, and they all eyed the place warily.

The floor moved, and suddenly Harry knew what had happened.

"You're an Animagus!" he said reverently to the small white and yellow gecko. She had seemed nearly invisible on the yellow stone floor of the Room of Requirement.

"Cool!" said Ron, sitting back down.

"How did you learn that?" asked Hermione.

Neville stretched his hand toward the gecko Luna, and tentatively touched her skin. "I like this animagus. It suits you."

The gecko looked at him, nodded her head, and blinked her large glassy black eyes in appreciation.

Neville backed away, and took a seat on one of the cushions.

Luna reappeared.

"I was given a couple of books on Animagus training by my father. He's pretty well known in his rhinoceros form."

"I don't doubt it," snorted Hermione.

Harry shuddered with anticipation. _This_ was what he had been waiting for.

"Ever since you taught us all about combining wandless magic and soundless magic, I've been practicing. I can do it."

Ginny stared at her with eyes that that lit up. "You mean we could do this if we could continuously combine the two?" She turned to Harry. "I would have thought that you would be amazing at this! Haven't you even tried?" Hermione and Neville both looked incredibly shocked. Being the only ones who had been able to use wandless and soundless magic combined meant they probably wouldn't have to work too hard to learn. Hermione more so than Neville, since Hermione was more adept at transfiguration.

Harry blushed, and smiled at Luna. "I thought I should take a look at the manuals or something before I just went ahead and did it. Remus flat-out refused to tell me anything he knew about it, and I was finding it a little difficult to get my hands on any information. It's illegal to even have a manual if you don't have the proper training papers. And the ministry really frowns on those who don't take the approved course to learn."

Luna interrupted. "The manuals mostly just had information on what happens if things go wrong, and how to repair them. The incantation is actually pretty simple. You need soundless magic, because you won't be able to speak as an animal, and wandless magic, because your clothes and of course your wand disappear into your animal body when you change over. And you need to combine the two so that you can change back into a human. It is pretty advanced transfiguration, but it's related to most basic mammalian transfigurations. I know we can all do it."

"I heard that you can't choose your animal. Is that right?" Ginny asked.

"No, you don't choose. The animal is a part of you. Sometimes it's symbolic of your personality, sometimes it chooses itself based on your inherent features or your name. Most of the time, it's a bit of everything."

Harry remembered how Sirius' Animagus had been a large black dog. Probably the choice had been more because of his name than anything. Sirius was the name of the Dog Star, and it was what his godfather had been named after. He imagined his Animagus wouldn't follow such a simple path. He momentarily pictured himself turning into a big hairy pot, and nearly laughed aloud at the stupidity of it. "How soon can we learn this?" He asked.

"If we can talk about it right now, and maybe you guys can get in some more practice combining wandless and soundless, then we could do it as soon as we find an appropriate place." Luna answered.

"Why can't we do it here?" asked Neville, who looked a little nervous. He had thus far proven himself quite adept at wandless and soundless magic, but his transfiguration skills were rather nonexistent. Harry figured he would need a bit of help to get the incantation just right.

"Well," said Luna, "We don't know what your Animagus will be, and the instincts of an animagus are a little difficult to control at first. We need to find a place outside the castle. If your Animagus ends up being an alligator or something, we'll have to watch out. I think my dad knows a story of a wizard about a hundred years ago who turned himself into a scorpion and accidentally stung one of his friends on the toe. That's why they always want to have a testing officer monitor progress when anyone learns."

Harry nodded. "Luna's right." He said. "There's no guarantee that we won't go off and _eat_ one another."

"How will we keep away from each other then?" Ron asked curiously. "We still have to monitor each other don't we? Just to make sure things go all right?"

Luna thought for a moment. "It's probably best if we find a place with two rooms. One that we can charm to be impenetrable, and another that we can wait in for five minutes or so while the initial instincts of whatever animal you are dies down. We'll want to find a place away from the school somewhere, so any noises we make wouldn't be overheard."

"What about the shrieking shack?" Ginny suggested.

Luna looked confused. "Isn't that the place in Hogsmeade that's haunted?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, haunted by our third year defense teacher." Everyone else broke into giggles.

"What do you mean?" Asked Luna. "What does professor Lupin have to do with that house?"

Harry smiled. "Well, you know he's a werewolf." Luna nodded. "So they planted the Whomping willow over that secret passageway out to the shrieking shack when he was in his first year here. He used the shrieking Shack as his monthly wolf-pen."

"Oh, that's a good idea." Luna said dreamily. "It must have scared off all those ghosts. That's why it's been silent all these years."

Harry looked confusedly over at Ginny, who was trying to suppress giggles, and she shrugged.

"If we have a place, then maybe we could go out there and try out our animal forms in about a week. I'll lend you guys some of the books tomorrow, and you can read up on it."

"Sounds good." Harry smiled at her.

They left the room of requirement thinking their way through the London Zoo.

All of them except Luna, who had gone off to the Ravenclaw tower, approached the portrait hole. Harry suddenly paled, and shuddered.

"What is it?" Ginny asked him quietly, since they were straggling slightly behind everyone else.

"What if my animagus is something like a snake? What if I have too much of Voldemort inside me to be safe in animagus form even behind an impenetrable charm? What if I become a basilisk or something? I could be really dangerous!"

Ginny had no answers. She just shrugged. "Then we'll find a way of knowing. I'm pretty sure you won't. You have too much good in you."

Harry felt a little better.

"For all we know, _I_ could become a basilisk." She muttered.

Harry turned towards her. "No way. Not you."

"At least if I do, you would be able to talk to me." She smiled half-heartedly, and they climbed inside the portrait hole and up to their dormitories.

000000

It was actually another two weeks before all of them felt comfortable enough using combined wandless and soundless magic to even give their animagus forms a try.

Harry had been a little impatient waiting, and had used his time to read the animagus manuals front to back, memorizing as much of the information as was possible. The others were pushing their powers to the maximum to catch up to where Harry was. In the end, they were all quite satisfied that they could perform the complex transfiguration without _too_ much difficulty.

Neville had a hard time explaining to professor McGonagall why he had suddenly become so adept at animal to animal transfiguration. She had caught him turning his pet toad Trevor into a cockatoo at the breakfast table one morning. She hadn't noticed that Neville had done the transformation completely soundless and wandless. After she had heard his mumbled reply of, 'I thought it could be useful to know.' She promised she would somehow find a way to let him retake his transfiguration OWL exam with the all of the fifth years, and possibly let him join the sixth year class next year. He would be a year behind everyone, but at least he would still get the Exceeds Expectations OWL.

Neville obviously felt this was something worth celebrating, because he cheered and soundlessly conjured a handful of confetti and tossed it into the air, right into McGonagall's face.

McGonagall seemed a little suspicious of them after that, and Harry reccommended that they stay as far away from her as possible while attempting any strange feats of magic. McGonagall herself had the Animagus form of a tabby cat, and if she saw and understood too much, they could end up in a lot of trouble.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and an invisibility-cloaked Neville worked their way through the darkened castle toward the front doors. They all made sure to disillusion each other before starting off, so the only things visible were the floating marauder's map, and a faint glow from Hermione's wand.

They had a close call with Mrs. Norris and Filch. Both of whom were prowling the third-floor corridor. Harry saw Mrs. Norris heading towards them on the map, and quickly grabbed at the faint ripplings of air around him, and pulled them all back into a broom closet that was hidden behind a large tapestry.

"What is it? He heard Ginny ask in a whisper. Her breath brushed over the back of his neck and sent shivers down his spine.

"Mrs. Norris." He answered in a croak.

Harry waited until the two dots on the map had passed them over and headed toward the fourth floor. He whispered, "Come on."

They made it out to the entrance hall with no further interruptions, and slipped one by one out the door and across the grounds to the Whomping Willow. The tree's branches began to shudder and sway upon their approach, sensing the intruders.

"All right Luna, go ahead." Harry said.

They all watched as Neville's hands appeared near ground level and released the small white and yellow gecko that had rested there under the invisibility cloak. It sat placidly on the ground, and looked up expectantly.

"It's the little knot there that looks like an umbrella." He told her, and only then remembered that she couldn't see his finger pointing. He lowered his arm abruptly.

The gecko understood however, and turned, scrambling through the grass and twining itself about the roots of the whomping willow. Then she skittered up the trunk to press the small knot with her nose.

They watched as the waving limbs of the tree were paused in mid-sway. Then they moved in and slipped, one by one, through the open space between the roots. Harry went first, then Neville with the gecko-Luna cradled in his hands beneath the cloak, then Ginny and Hermione, then Ron.

Harry quickly rapped each of them on the head with his wand to remove the disillusionment charm, and Luna's gecko form lengthened and grew back to human size and shape. Neville let the large hood of the invisibility cloak slip back so that it revealed just his head.

They ran the length of the passage and entered the Shrieking Shack in just over a minute.

"Nice place this." Said Luna softly, trying to catch her breath.

They couldn't really tell whether she was joking or not. The walls were covered with millions of scratches and cracks, and the wooden floor was covered with broken chairs, tables and general debris. It creaked hauntingly with every step they took. All of the exits and windows were boarded over, except for one large picture window, which faced the forbidden forest, and had a loose piece of ragged plywood across it. Jagged marks along the upper window frame looked suspiciously like antler scratches, and Harry ran his finger along them in the dark.

The rest of Neville' body appeared as the invisibility cloak swished to the ground. "I don't know how good I'm going to be at this." He whimpered.

Harry touched his arm in sympathy. "You've got an animal in you somewhere Neville. Don't worry. This is just bringing it out. Remember your fish?"

"Yeah." Neville muttered, still looking nervous. "If I'm a fish, make sure to put me into some water quick."

Harry nodded. "Right. Well this is the same as that. It's something natural. Every wizard has it in them, it's just a question of finding it."

Neville smiled halfheartedly, and Harry patted him on the back.

"Don't worry, you'll do fine." Luna said breezily, and she launched into an explanation of what they needed.

"This room here should do. We need to be able to see in to make sure the person is all right, but keep ourselves separate. You all know the incantations? Both the one to change you into an animal and the one to bring you back to human?"

They nodded.

"Good. What we'll do, is get you to do the first, then the second really fast. It won't give you a chance to really settle into your new body, but it might give us a glimpse of what you're going to be, and we can make sure you don't get stuck halfway. If you become a fish or something," she looked pointedly at Neville, "then we can try it again once we've got some water on hand."

"I'll close my eyes too, that way, if I become a basilisk, you guys won't get killed." Harry stated, trying to joke about it, but failing to hide his actual concern.

Luna shrugged him off airily. "Oh, don't worry. You can't turn into any creature with inherent magical abilities. It isn't in the manuals, but my father told me."

Harry gaped. He hadn't thought of that. Maybe he would be a stag, like his father after all... "Right." He said, feeling slightly foolish.

"Good. Neville, since you're the one who's so nervous about this, I suggest you go first." Luna tried to usher him into the Kitchen area.

He resisted. "Why me?"

She turned to pull on his arm. "Because I want you to show them how it's done. I know you can do it, so just get it over with. Let's not prolong your nerves any."

Neville actually let her pull him into the kitchen, then as soon as she'd gone, Hermione put an impenetrable charm on the open door, and Neville closed his eyes.

A minute passed while Neville got comfortable. It looked like he might have made an attempt a few times, but Neville remained standing where he was.

A sudden creaking sound signaled a transformation of some kind, and Neville disappeared from Harry's view. Then another creak, and Neville was back in his human form. Hermione gasped. Harry's eyes had been too slow to take in Neville's animal form, but obviously Hermione had.

"Did I do it?" Neville asked hopefully.

"You sure did, Neville."

"What was I?" He asked, looking questioningly at everyone who stood watching him with their mouths open.

"Not anything dangerous, I assure you." Hermione smiled. "Try it again! There's a floor-length mirror on that wall over there. You can see for yourself."

Neville walked over to the semi-cracked mirror, and closed his eyes, concentrating again on the incantation and the feel of his body.

A small creak sounded, and there sat Neville the Pug.

He opened his eyes, and was immediately staring intently at himself in the mirror.He had faun coloured fur, great sad-looking bulbuous eyes, a worried frown on his black lips, and furry black ears that were turned back with nerves. As soon as he caught sight of himself, the ears pricked forward, and the tiny mouth opened.

Out came the loudest snort any of them had ever heard come from something so small. Then he barked, and Neville was eagerly scrabbling at his reflection in the mirror as though it might be a playmate for him.

Everyone standing outside the door laughed. Ron exclaimed, "Neville, you look great!" and Neville turned to him, wagging his tail in excitement. It was as if he was saying "Look! I did it!" Then he began to chase his tail, and run flat out in figure eights.

He might have been small, but Neville as a pug sure could run. Harry had never been much of a dog-lover, but he could clearly see that Neville was. He was yapping and jumping, and running around insanely trying to prove that he had found exactly the right shape. _He would have had such fun with Sirius. _Harry thought wistfully, remembering how Sirius used to chase squirrels to amuse Harry.

After five minutes or so, Neville was able to calm down enough to remember who he was and what he was supposed to be doing. He changed back into his very flustered self. Obviously the excitement of the moment was enough to make the transfiguration look simple.

"That was amazing!" he puffed, slightly out of breath. "It felt so natural!"

"All right, My turn!" said Hermione eagerly. She removed the impenetrable charm, let Neville out, and took his place.

Harry put the charm on the door, and they all just stared at Hermione curiously.

She closed her eyes as well, and thought of the incantation. A creak, and again, she was beyond Harry's sight. Another, and she was back. She hadn't needed much time to prepare herself, so no one was really ready for the magic.

"Did I get it?"

"Did you see what she was?" Ron asked. "It was too fast for me."

Hermione moved towards the mirror, and tried again.

There stood Hermione, the great horned owl. She hooted her surprise at coming face to face with speckled brown feathers, and immediately launched herself into the air in surprise.

Five minutes of ooing an ahhhing over Hermione's sudden ability to fly about the kitchen was enough for her and she changed back, looking exhilarated.

"Harry, your turn." Said Luna. "I'm curious to see what your animal is."

Harry took the charm off the door, and stepped past Hermione, who was going the other way. "Hey Neville, do you want to go out in the forest and explore in our new forms? We could check out their forms later!" She turned back to the other three. "We'll try to guess who's who when we come back."

Neville nodded. "All right, but as a flightless creature, I need you to keep a lookout for strange beasts. As much as I like professor Firenze, I've heard that his friends aren't all that nice." Everyone laughed,and Hermione wrinkled her nose. It seemed that she now had a job. "That's all we owls are to you aren't we. Post delivery and spies." She smiled at him to let him know she wasn't serious.

They both closed their eyes, and the small dog and owl slipped out behind the loose piece of plywood at the window and were gone.

Harry shook his head. "Promise me you'll let me know if I'm a snake, and I won't ever do this again."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Get on with it already!" He put the impenetrable charm back on the door.

"Right." Harry closed his eyes, and focused on the feel of his body. He could feel his skin tingling right at the scalp, and longed to itch it. He felt his heart pounding, and his toe twitched.

He thought the word _'Transanimagus'_ and he felt his arms stretch out before him. He felt his forehead lengthen, and his tailbone push out from his behind. His clothes and wand sort of melted into his skin, and he felt hair growing everywhere. _At least I know I'm not a snake _He thought to himself. It wasn't painful at all, but sort of... tingly.

He immediately thought the word _'transhominid'_ and felt his body return to its original state. The hair receded, his nose and eyes squashed back where they belonged, and his hands left the floor to rest back at his sides.

He opened his eyes. "What was I?"

The other three were smiling at him with expressions of disbelief mixed with humour.

"You're going to have a devil of a time hiding as that animal." Ron joked.

Ginny giggled. "Kind of stands out, doesn't he?" she commented.

Harry couldn't take the suspense. He walked over to the mirror, and closed his eyes.

'_Transanimagus'_ he thought quickly, and felt himself become four-footed once more.

He opened his eyes to the sight of his own feet. _Paws _actually. He was looking at the floor. He looked up, expecting to see another dog of some type, and came nose to nose with a gigantic lion. He gasped, but it came out as a grumble from deep in his chest.

He stared at himself, and analyzed.

He had smooth golden fur all over except his mane, which was large, black, and looked overly mussed as if it had been in a windstorm. A stressed grey patch of fur in the shape of a firebolt on his forehead disappeared into the unruly mane, where one or two grey strands made the lion look overly aged. His slitted eyes were flickering from emerald green to yellow as he moved his face, and the fur around them held distinct brown circles where he knew his glasses should have been. His whiskers prodded the mirror, he was so close.

He suddenly realized that he could not smell this other lion that stood before him, and for some reason this vexed him. He could, however smell the humans standing just outside the door, and they smelled sweet. He lumbered towards them, and growled fiercely. When they didn't flinch or move, he stared intently. Trying to impress upon them his ferocity. His whiskers singed slightly just before the opening, and he dared not pass any further. He did however, pad lightly back and forth before the opening, and try to smell these three anomalous creatures.

After a short time of growling and pawing the invisible barrier, he remembered who he was. He knew _what_ he was, and felt the new instincts slide slowly into the back of his mind. Was this what his father had done? Had his father felt like ramming into his friends with his antlers or something? He didn't know what the natural instincts of a stag were, but he certainly now knew those of a lion, and in a lot of ways, he was grateful for the impenetrable charm on that door.

The three outside the door had been talking to each other and to him as well, but he only now understood the words.

"Come on back out, Harry. I want to try!" Ginny said, hopping from foot to foot.

'_Transhominid' _he thought, and returned to human form. This time, humanity felt different. Somehow more unnatural, and he longed to experiment as a lion. He now understood why Hermione and Neville had gone out to the forest so quickly. They had tasted freedom, and couldn't wait for more.

"You're right Ron. This form is going to be a bit difficult to hide. I'll probably be safe from Remus though if I ever decide to hang out with him on a full moon."

Luna, Ron, and Ginny laughed.

As much as he was curious to find out what Ginny and Ron's forms were, he was almost desperate to be a lion again, and slink between the trees. "I'm going to test this new set of claws out on a tree somewhere." He said. "I'll try and find Hermione and Neville too."

He pulled the plywood away from the back window, knowing he would never fit behind it as a lion. He closed his eyes. _'Transanimagus'_, he thought, and slipped into the forest.


	18. The Forbidden Forest

A/N: Hey Queen Weasel, you were pretty close! (I'm not going to give anything else away here, sorry.) And thank you very much Dianne for all the great reviews! I really appreciate the in depth comments. They're great! I would also like to mention that I am not, nor will I ever be a follower of the cartoon version of X-Men. (The movie was great, but I didn't know there was an X-Men character with a certain nickname until my sister pointed it out. I apologize, but I like it too much to change it.)

Werewolf Disclaimer: I'd like to take this moment to say that I take no credit whatsoever for er... ugh...aaargh! HOWWWWLLLLL!!!!!!

**Chapter Eighteen - **

**The Forbidden Forest**

Harry inhaled the autumn air around him, and almost immediately knew where Neville was. The poor mutt had headed upwind, and he was determined to greet the hell out of his friend. He couldn't smell Hermione, but that could be either because he hadn't been able to pick up her scent back in the kitchen, seeing as she had basically flown the entire time, or because she was flying right now. Harry assumed that both were likely to be correct.

The feel of the pads on his feet against twig and rock was interesting. He studied the sensation further, and was startled to realize that his paws were nearly twice the size of his splayed hands. He tripped over them a few times before he had totally recognized the problem, but after a moment he got used to them. In fact, even just thinking about how he was walking on four feet made him fall on his face once, so he was determined not to think about it anymore, and tried to let his lion body carry him as it obviously knew best.

Harry was so focused on the feel of his body that he wasn't prepared for the feathered bomb that dropped from directly above. He turned and hissed menacingly as Hermione regrouped and readied herself for another attack. She flew daringly straight towards him, her eyes glinting with mischief. Harry had a strange moment of feline insight, and took a running leap against the nearest tree.

Hermione's owl eyes had seen his defense strategy, and she veered away at the last second, just barely missing the massive paws that sideswiped her tailfeathers. She landed on a thick branch above Harry's head.

Suddenly it was Hermione sitting there, not her animal form, and she wobbled once, before grasping at the trunk of the tree to stabilize herself. "I like the mane. Very becoming." She smiled. "Watch those paws Harry. I get the feeling you're a bit stronger now than what you're used to." She changed back into her horned owl form, and took off from the branch with a flurry of wings.

Harry, who had his front paws placed up on the trunk of the tree, now felt a distracting tug on one of his hind legs. When he dropped back to the forest floor, he saw the tiny form of Neville as a pug growling and pulling at the fur tufting out from his back left leg. He had a feeling that neither Hermione nor Neville really had to wonder who he was. It must have been rather obvious. Besides, they already knew he was going next. It couldn't really be anyone else. The grey scar in his mane just confirmed it.

_So much for heading back to the shrieking shack to 'guess' who is who. _He thought wryly.

Harry smiled at Neville the best that a lion could smile, and roared. The sound echoed through the forest, and through Harry's own head. Poor Neville dropped his mouthful of fur, turned tail, and fled. He ran only far enough for Harry to see that the sound had simply surprised him, but it hadn't made him fear Harry's new form.

Now that Harry thought about it, and had tried it, A lion was the only animal he seemed suited to. He purred loudly, and followed Neville through the trees. He leaned his hindquarters against some of the scratchier trees as he passed, feeling very pleased with the sensation. He knew he was probably picking up burrs and such things, but at the moment he really didn't care all that much.

Another sniff of the air told Harry that something had changed in the forest.

There was another cat nearby.

It was from downwind coming from the shrieking shack, so the scent was just barely reaching them before it was carried away. Even weak as it was, the smell was distinctly feline. Harry made a low chirruping noise to Neville and he too stopped, snorting at the air around him. It was as if Harry had said, "Do you smell that?"

They both began to run toward the scent. Harry closed his eyes to concentrate fully on finding this other mysterious cat. Neville seemed to trust Harry's judgement, because it was obvious that the dog didn't know what he was chasing.

Of course, Harry had the larger stride, but the wildly snorting Neville wasn't far behind by the time Harry exploded from a taller section of ferns, and landed in a roll on top of another huge shadow.

The other jungle cat had obviously been expecting his attack, and he knew he had been upwind, but Harry was surprised at how well it defended itself, especially since he hadn't expected it to be so _huge_. By the time the tangled pile of cats came to a stop and Harry opened his eyes, he could feel a massive claw pushing itself into his chest and a snarling angry breath mussing his mane.

He knew immediately that he was looking up into the angry brown eyes of Ginny Weasley in the form of a Bengal Tiger.

She had sleek orange and black fur everywhere except her cheeks and chest, where white patches stood out in broad contrast to the darkness of the forest. Her teeth were bared, and flecks of menacing drool dripped from the sharp tips.

She roared into his face.

It was loud enough to damage any normal human's eardrums, and Neville was sent scurrying away again.

Harry only purred his laughter. After a moment of eyeing the sharp teeth closely and hedging his bets on the speed of her retaliation, he gave her the sloppiest lick he could right in the middle of her big white cheek. It somehow didn't feel wrong to be 'kissing' her. It was a very pleasant teasing sort of gesture of cameraderie, and her fur tasted clean as if she had only recently bathed herself.

She snapped her jaws at his tongue, but he just batted her head to the side with his dinner-plate paws. Basically, her motions translated to "If you don't remove that disgusting tongue, I'll remove it for you."

"Awww. Look at the kitties!" Hermione's voice once again sounded from the treetops. "They're playing!" She turned back into an owl, leering down at them and hooting with laughter.

Ginny suddenly turned into herself. "Here birdie!" she said teasingly, then once more as a tiger, leapt. She used Harry's chest as a pushoff point, and Harry was momentarily winded. She was able to reach approximately ten feet in the air, where she lightly smacked the righteous owl off her branch, and landed gracefully by launching off the nearest tree the same way Harry had done earlier.

Hermione came to a flustered rest on a rock next to Harry, and turned back into herself, rubbing at her shoulder. "That was uncalled for Ginny!" then she turned to Harry. "What would you say if I told you I have a craving for rats?"

Harry became himself too, and sneered. "I'd have to say make sure you pick your rats wisely. Specifically go for the ones with silver paws, and make sure they're named Peter Pettigrew."

The four spent the next ten minutes playing. They would transform and say something, then change back. Quite a bit of it was teasing. Some of it was informative. Harry found himself making actual physical contact a lot more than he would have, had he been human. Having the Dursleys as guardians had made Harry very reluctant to touch someone else. Even a hug usually felt awfully awkward and far too personal. It felt very natural now to give a lick here, a nudge there, a running leap and a pounce on top of Neville, a flick of his tail in Ginny's face... Things felt very simple as a lion.

Neville had raised a very interesting idea, and Harry had just been pondering it, when he and Ginny both raised their heads and sniffed at the same moment.

_'It must be Ron!'_ The cats both looked at each other in confusion. They weren't as certain with him about what animal he was. All they knew was that some new creature had entered the forest from the direction of the shrieking shack.

Since they couldn't know what animal they were up against, they all grouped together, and slowly walked toward the scent, Hermione fluttering gracefully above them.

They heard a distant yip, and Neville snorted in excitement. He barked back, and began to run. They saw Neville disappear into the tall grasses for a second. No sooner had he disappeared, then he came running back out looking terrified, with a red hunting fox directly on his tail and snapping at his heels.

Ron had arrived.

He yipped excitedly, and raced forwards to jump at Harry. Harry just batted his paw at the fox, and growled. It felt a little like giving Ron a noogie.

Ron went over to Ginny, and pushed himself into her front legs. She purred at him contentedly, and began to lick his face, looking rather proud and mothering. Ron pulled away abruptly, and shook his body starting at his head, and rolling the motion down right to the end of his white tipped tail.

He turned back into a human. "Ginny don't attempt to clean the other animals please. It was bad enough having to watch you clean yourself for those five minutes when you didn't know who you were."

Ginny growled, and batted him in the arm.

"Luna says we all need to go back to the Shrieking Shack. She's got a couple of other things to tell us." He turned back into a fox, and headed towards the shack.

Harry turned into himself again. He whistled a cat call to his friend and said loudly, "Hey Ron!" when Ron turned, Harry said, "Pretty foxy there mate!" and he changed back to his lion form.

The fox grinned, and they all followed him back to the shrieking shack. Harry sort of imagined the lot of them as a small travelling zoo. Two jungle cats, a fox, a dog, and an owl.

"There you are." Said Luna. "Did you have trouble finding them Ronald?"

They all changed back into people, and Ron answered her truthfully. "No, I got a bit sidetracked. There was a grouse in the bushes near the back door."

Hermione giggled. "And you had to chase it?"

Ron laughed. "It might surprise you to know that us foxes seem to have a _thing_ for birds. They're pretty tasty I might add," he said licking his lips suggestively.

That shut Hermione up immediately, and she blushed while everyone else laughed.

"All right everyone." Luna took charge. "I wanted to tell you how important it is that no one find out about your ability to change form. Animagus training without a permit is illegal, and unless you have the proper papers, even owning any of the training books can bring a nasty fine down on your heads, so I have to swear you all to secrecy."

"No problem Luna. You can count on us." Said Neville, blushing slightly.

They all swore to Luna by linking pinkie fingers and shaking.

"Now, back to the business of being animals," Harry continued, "Neville made a suggestion that I think should make things a little easier to keep secret. My father and his friends did this too. We should make up nicknames to refer to our animals. Neville said he feels like a different being when he's a pug. I feel the same, and I think we should have the names to show it."

"What was your father's nickname? I didn't realize he was an animagus." Said Luna dreamily.

"My father was a stag. They called him Prongs, Sirius Black was big black dog named Padfoot, and Remus Lupin was Moony."

Neville gaped. "Your map! That was professor Lupin? Your father?"

"Yeah, my map was made by them." Harry answered. "They called themselves the Marauders."

"Who was Wormtail?" Luna asked quietly.

Harry's face twisted into a scowl. He knew this could be a very long story. "You all met Sirius briefly, and you know that he was never the one who betrayed my parents, and that he never killed thirteen muggles and one wizard with a single curse... Do you remember that Voldemort was brought back to life by his most faithful servant, and that Cedric Diggory was killed right before my eyes in June of my fourth year?"

Luna and Neville nodded. None of the others responded, as they all knew this story very well.

"The wizard who did all those things..." He closed his eyes, "calls himself Wormtail. He was one of my father's best friends, or at least everyone thought he was."

Neville and Luna gasped, and Harry continued. "He was a rat more in mind and spirit than any I have ever encountered. His animagus form was disturbingly appropriate."

Luna shuddered.

Harry went on. "I had the opportunity in third-year, to be rid of Wormtail forever. Moony and Padfoot had confronted the _rat _and pointed their wands at him. I stood in front of them, and wouldn't let them kill him. I told Sirius and Remus that my father wouldn't have wanted them to become killers... just for him."

"Because of me, Wormtail escaped and was able to restore Voldemort." Harry put his hands over his eyes, and spoke his grief through his palms. "If I hadn't done that, Cedric Diggory wouldn't be dead, Voldemort wouldn't be back, and most of all, Sirius would still be alive. He wouldn't have had to stay hidden in what may as well have been another prison for the last year of his life."

No one knew what to say to the silent tears they saw running down Harry's cheeks. Ginny, who was closest, put her arm around his shoulder, and patted his back lightly.

"I think we should go now. We'll think up nicknames later." Hermione slowly stood, and everyone moved along behind her.

Harry quickly swiped a sleeve under his glasses, and followed with Ginny.

"I'm going to go back to Ravenclaw tower as a gecko." Said Luna. "I'll be less noticeable that way."

"I'll carry you again." Offered Neville.

She looked at him appraisingly. "All right. Drop me off on the fourth floor opposite the vampire tapestry."

Neville nodded, and the next thing anyone knew, she was a small white and yellow lizard. Neville put on the invisibility cloak, and Harry and the others disillusioned each other by rapping their wands on one another's heads.

They all made it back to Gryffindor tower after dropping Luna where she asked, and headed up to their dormitories, thinking about lions, tigers, and rats.

000000

_'Oh my!' _Thought Harry the next morning, as he saw Ginny walk into the Great Hall for breakfast.

It wasn't really anything she wore, or _did_ that caused the reaction. He could just see something slightly more _feline _about the way she walked. More confident, and with a strange excited sort of glint in her eye. She looked younger today than she ever had, and Harry was startled to realize that this was the way she _would_ have looked had she never had her run in with Tom Riddle's diary in her first year. The incident had scarred her just as deeply as his encounters with the Dark Lord had scarred him. Today the weight she had long since carried had somehow evaporated.

Harry smiled to realize that he felt the same way.

She made a beeline for him. "Have you chosen a nickname yet?" she whispered as she took her seat beside him.

"Well," he said uncertainly, "I thought it would be easy, but I just don't really want to make one up for myself. All the ones I come up with either sound totally stupid in my head, or else they sound really conceited. After last year, I don't need anyone else telling me I have a big head."

Ginny laughed. "Hmm... let me think. Yellow fur, large paws, sensitive nose, black whiskers and mane, small grey spot shaped like a lightningbolt on the forehead, aha!" she said suddenly, surprising Harry. "What do you think of the nickname Greymane? I mean-" she hurried on, intent on making sure Harry understood her reasoning, "It says that your scar is important without saying it's about your scar. I mean, you don't like people staring at it and everything, but I remember you once telling me that it was your favorite feature, and-"

"I like it." Harry interrupted in a whisper. He had the strange sensation that he would have appreciated any nickname she suggested just then. He was really in a good mood. "Greymane it is. Have you thought of yours?"

"I have, but I want your opinion."

"All right, let's hear it."

"Sabertooth." Said Ginny almost defiantly.

Harry laughed. "It's perfect!" he said happily. "It says 'don't mess with me, I'm a Weasley!'"

Ginny laughed, sounding glad that Harry thought it was a good one. "Have you seen any of the others? I wanted to get their opinions, and find out what they've thought up."

"Fraid not Gin." Harry said, stuffing a bit of toast into his mouth. He chewed quickly, and swallowed. "I would bet they're all still asleep. We were out pretty late last night."

At that very moment, Neville and Ron appeared in the hall. Both were looking a little worse for wear, but they were smiling radiantly. They plopped themselves down on the bench opposite Harry and Ginny.

"Thought up any names yet?" Ginny asked quickly.

Neville shook his head.

"Nope. Haven't had time yet." Said Ron cheerfully, and he began to fill his mouth, barely chewing, much less tasting any of the things that went in.

"Didn't you eat enough last night?" Ginny asked him sweetly.

"Wha?" said Ron through the food.

"I seem to remember you getting sidetracked by a grouse?"

Ron shook his head. "I didn't eat it, I just batted it around a bit. I just said that to get a rise out of Hermione."

Harry was surprised. This was the first time that Ron had ever admitted to intentionally inciting Hermione's wrath.

Something Ginny had just said suddenly pricked a thought in his brain, and he gasped. "I've got it!" he whispered loudly to Ron. "Your nickname." He clarified at everyone's confused looks. "You said you get sidetracked by birds?"

Ron nodded.

"Well then if you want to really make Hermione blush, what about the nickname 'Sidetrack'?"

An evil grin began to spread across his features. "Oh, you're good. You're really good. I'm going to use that one."

"Good." Said Harry. "What about you Neville?"

"Oh, I'll probably take any nickname. I'll even take a cutesy pootsy one or something. I seem to be one of the meeker of our group." He smiled meekly as if to prove his point.

"Fluffy?" said Ron threateningly. Neville suddenly looked alarmed.

"Ron, we can't name him after Hagrid's three headed monster!" Harry said, trying to save face for Neville. Neville, after all, had never met Fluffy.

Ginny looked closely at Neville. "At the risk of sounding simplistic, what about something like 'Wrinkles'?"

Neville suddenly grinned. "I used to have a stuffed puppy that I named wrinkles."

"You sure you want that one?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"Why not?" Neville responded. "I would think it takes real guts to be willing to be called something like 'Wrinkles'. It's the mark of a fine and confident individual." Neville said these words proudly, then stuffed a whole slice of toast into his mouth, completely ruining the fierce attittude he had just adopted.

Ron patted him on the back teasingly. "And you certainly are a fine individual Wrinkles!"

"I'm going to regwet dif, awen't I..." Neville muffled good-naturedly around the toast in his mouth.

"So what about you guys?" Ron asked. "Got yours?"

Harry pointed to Ginny. "Sabertooth." Ron nodded and smiled, and Harry pointed to himself. "Greymane."

"Those are pretty good."

Before they could say any more, a slightly irritated looking Hermione stalked determinedly over to their table with a dreamy looking Luna directly behind her. Hermione sat down in a huff and Luna, seemingly unaware of Hermione's bad mood, lazily offered her hand to Neville and curtsied.

"Hello, my name is Stickyfoot." She said immediately.

Neville chuckled, and to everyone's surprise, he took her knuckles to his lips and kissed them, making Luna blush. "I'm delighted to make your acquaintance, Stickyfoot, my friends call me Wrinkles."

She curtsied again, and made no indication that she thought that 'Wrinkles' might in any way be an inferior name. Hermione tried not to giggle behind her fingers.

"And might you introduce these charming friends of yours?" she asked, playing along with the act.

Neville indicated Harry across from him with a grand swish of his arm. "Might I present to you, the king of the jungle-" he paused, while Harry blushed furiously, "Mister Greymane."

Next, he moved his hand to Ginny. "Your worst nightmare in animal form, Miss Sabertooth."

Then, smiling, he patted Ron on the shoulder, and looked fleetingly at Hermione. "And the slyest birdwatcher this side of the forbidden forest, Mister Sidetrack."

At this, Hermione's eyes widened, and Ron smirked at her evilly. "And who is this lovely creature you have brought us?" he asked, sounding slightly sinister, and tapping his fingers against each-other like an evil genius.

She gaped at Ron, then at Neville for a moment, then looked pleadingly at Luna. It seemed she didn't know what to do when Ron flirted outright with her. She was blushing madly, and looked completely gobsmacked, much to Harry and Ginny's delight.

"Mister Sidetrack, I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance," Luna rambled easily. "This is my darling friend, Miss Eyespy. I hope you'll pardon her reluctance, she's just had a rather frustrating encounter with Parvati."

"What? No historical figurehead? No famous witch or wizard?" Ron asked, slipping out of character.

Hermione, whose cheeks were still furiously red, shook her head. "I thought I should keep it simple, as we're going to be referring to each other regularly as these names. I don't want anyone to get suspicious."

"So, tell us all about this 'frustrating encounter' that you've had with Parvati?" Ginny asked, grinning at Hermione knowingly, and somehow shoving a piece of bacon into her mouth at the same time. Everyone was looking intensely ravenous today.

Hermione pursed her lips with anger. "She pulled a Trelawney on me in our dormitory this morning. Went all limp and glassy eyed, then she told me that... well that my future love would only please me completely as long as we always have something to argue about. Honestly! Have you ever heard such complete tripe?" She dug angrily into her breakfast, oblivious to the way the supposed 'prophecy' from Parvati was affecting the others.

Harry, Neville and Ginny shared very knowing grins, but said nothing. Ron had turned a bit pale, and was staring intently at his fork which seemed to captivate him. Luna swiped a piece of toast from his plate, and began to munch on it thoughtfully while still standing. Ron pretended to wipe some unseen smudge off the side of the utensil, then went back to his meal, not realizing that he was now missing a piece of toast.

At least they now knew that Parvati had selected a different subject matter for her prophetic abilities, Harry thought ruefully. Too bad it had to be people's love lives.

"Luna, could I ask you something?" He had decided to change the subject, and at the same time fill the embarrasing silence that Hermione seemed to have unknowingly created.

Luna cocked her head to the side and nodded.

"Well, Remus was telling me over the summer that he doesn't have a pack anymore." Harry nearly tripped over the words in eagerness. "He was really upset about it. And seeing as Greymane's not exactly someone who could ever hide, I thought I could put it to use somehow. I wanted to be with him when he transforms, and I wanted to get your permission to tell him about all of this."

"Luna nodded. It's not a problem. In fact I think I wouldn't mind hanging around with him of a full moon once or twice. It would give him some company."

Harry nodded. "I'm not sure what he'll be like at that time, but I suppose a gecko would be safe from him."

"Count me in." said Ginny. "I'd like to be part of a wolf pack."

"Anyone else?"

Everyone nodded enthusiastically, even Neville.

"I'll write to him this evening." Harry nodded.

000000

_Dear Moony_

_If possible, I'd like for you to come for a bit of a visit to Hogwarts. Fred and George say we can have visitors whenever we want, and I immediately thought of you. I know you'll be busy and things will be a little crazy here too, but it would be nice to see you._

_I know you are regularly ill, and I thought you might be able to use that as an excuse to get out of your duties. Although I'm sure no one will notice if you come over of an evening. Hope to hear from you soon._

_Harry_

Harry had briefly considered signing his letter 'Greymane'. But decided against it. He'd given away enough as it was without bringing the entire ministry down on his head. He only hoped that Remus would understand that he meant for him to come over on the next full moon.

He looked around the common room. Neville was practicing his cello in the corner, and he was getting quite good at it. He was currently being fawned over by three fourth year Gryffindor girls, and was apparently loving every second of it. He was even showing off a bit, laughing with them and playing complicated sounding passages in the song he had just learned. Harry decided not to interrupt.

Ginny sat in one of the wingbacked armchairs doing her charms homework in her lap.

"Do you think this letter is too obvious?" Harry asked her.

She read through it once and smiled, handing it back. "It's perfect."

"I'll go mail it then." Harry rushed off to the owlery to see if Hedwig was up to delivering his bit of post.

He received his answer from Remus the next morning at breakfast. He tore into the envelope, and began to read the answer excitedly.

_Dear Harry_

_I don't know what you're up to, but I'll see you on the 23rd of November._

_Moony._

Harry ran over to the others to tell them the news. Everyone was especially excited about showing off their animal forms to someone new, and they began to plan how to let out the secret. The twenty-third was only a week away. It was on the Friday the night of the full moon, and Harry could only assume that indeed Remus _had _understood the message.

Harry was a little worried. Remus had told him unconditionally that he would not teach Harry to become an animagus. He only hoped that didn't include Luna teaching him how to become one.


	19. Moony's New Pack

A/N: Sigh, here's where I admit wholeheartedly that I haven't done my research. Thank you everyone for pointing out the fact that Neville was indeed present when the trio first met Fluffy. I apologize, and please ask that everyone just ignore my lack of brain cells for the time being. I just thought that since it was a particularily small incident in the whole course of things that I wouldn't have to check up on my facts. I let the movies dictate my plot, and it was a stupid thing to do.

Slytherin Disclaimer: Perhaps if I gather my adoring fans close to me now while I am simply having a good time, then later I will be able to rule the literary world.

**Chapter Nineteen -**

**Moony's New Pack**

The morning of the twenty-third dawned grey, cold and rainy. The temperature was almost at the freezing point, and with the castle being so draughty, many students were forced to wear their heaviest cloaks to class.

Harry could only hope that the rain would stop early so that they could go out without being noticed. The rain was sure to collect on any person who was disillusioned, and make them look a bit like a wet plastic-wrap ghost. Besides, with the cold in the air, rain would make them all sick, and people would be wondering what they had been up to.

Luck won out, and just after Charms, during lunch, the rain stopped and the sun came out.

All six of the 'pack' as they were calling each other, looked up at the ceiling of the great hall in unison and smiled at the parting clouds.

Harry was in the middle of wondering where and when Moony was going to show up when a very bedraggled and sick looking Remus walked into the Great Hall.

Harry almost regretted having asked him to come. He stood up, and moved over to see his tutor, giving him a half-hug as soon as he reached him.

"You're not looking well again." Harry chastised him.

"I can't exactly control my appearance in this instance." Remus said chuckling halfheartedly. "All right then, what's all this about?"

"What?" Harry put on his most innocent face. "Can't I invite you to come and see me for a day?"

"Yes, but why now? I'm really not feeling all that great, and travelling around at this time isn't always that comfortable. I know something's up, and it has to do with tonight, so tell me what this is all about."

"We've got something to show you." Harry said, gesturing Remus to join their group at the Gryffindor table. Luckily all of the teachers had gone off to teach by this time, although some of the other students in the hall were giving the visitor odd looks. Remus had after all, been a teacher at Hogwarts for a year. Many of the leftover students were probably curious as to why 'Professor Lupin' had come back.

"Don't you have classes now?" Remus asked suspiciously.

Harry shook his head. "No. We've got potions this afternoon, but that doesn't start for another hour and a half."

Luna spoke up, gesturing to herself and to Ginny. "We actually have Divination, but we're both horrible at it, and aren't likely to get any better. Divination is an entirely unreliable art."

"That's my baby sister." Ron said proudly, rumpling Ginny's hair. She pushed his hand off, and smacked him in lightly in the back of the head.

"Anyhow," Harry continued. "We'd like to show you something in the room of requirement."

He stood up, and everyone else followed suit, standing and leading the confused Remus up to the seventh floor corridor opposite a tapestry of a poor goblin being clubbed by angry trolls wearing tutus.

"Here we are." Harry said, and began to pace, muttering to himself. When the door appeared, they walked inside. As soon as Harry heard the door click shut behind Luna, he thought hard about the feel of his body, said the word _'transanimagus' _in his head and felt himself being changed into Greymane.

He heard Remus gasp loudly, and looked up to see the white face of his tutor staring back at them all looking slightly gobsmacked. Hermione, as Eyespy, fluttered over, and came to rest on Moony's shoulder, squeezing her talons comfortingly. Moony reached up and touched her brown feathers slightly reverently.

He turned back to stare at Harry. "When did you do this?" he asked quietly. "H-how? I thought it was a possibility after you mentioned it to me this summer, but..."

Harry turned back into himself, and answered Moony's question. "We've only just learned how last week, but I've been teaching the entire DA about wandless and soundless magic." Harry decided that he should now introduce the new nicknames of his friends. "My nickname is going to be Greymane." He pointed to Hermione. "Eyespy." Hermione bobbed her head in a sharp owl-like nod.

Harry gestured to Ron, then moved on to the others. "Sidetrack, Sabertooth, Wrinkles, and Stickyfoot. We're your new pack."

Moony swept over to his best student, and wrapped him in a bone crushing hug. Harry felt him shaking, and pulled away from him to see the aged-looking man weeping silently. Tears were streaming down his cheeks in torrents, and Remus didn't even bother to wipe them away.

Everyone in unison changed back to human form. Hermione's transformation was particularly impressive, as she changed in mid-flight, and landed solidly on the brick floor on two human feet.

"Are you all right?" Ron asked worriedly. "We didn't do something wrong, did we?"

Remus sniffed and dabbed the sleeves of his cloak to his eyes, trying to rid his face of the evidence of his emotional outburst.

"N-no, you've done everything perfectly." Moony said in a husky whisper. "It just reminded me of when James, Sirius and... when they did the same thing."

Harry's eyes nearly began to water too, but he was able to stay reasonably sober. "How did they tell you?"

"They didn't tell me what they were doing either. They just went ahead and learned without telling me. One night they just asked me to stay up a little later than everyone else, and they just... showed me what they had done." Remus looked up at the ceiling, seemingly searching for the happy memory up there. "I've never had to use any other memory than that to power my patronus."

Harry nodded in understanding.

"So!" Moony said, taking a stabilizing breath to get himself under control. "Tell me about your animals. What do they feel like?"

Ginny began. "Being Sabertooth feels very natural to me. I don't know why she does, but it's awesome. I feel incredibly powerful and almost... reckless. I don't know. She's a carnivore, and strange smells make me want to eat them. Don't worry, I haven't gotten up the nerve to try anything yet." Despite her comment, she looked as though she was incredibly tempted to give it a try.

"I feel a little bit playful, because my mind sort of simplifies itself. I don't have to worry about school, or think about the nightmares I've had or anything like that. Everything I do is on instinct. When I first changed, in that five minute bit, where I actually forgot that I was Ginny, I wanted to attack Ron and Luna." Ginny looked very embarrassed and ashamed at this. "It went away when I remembered who I was."

Harry chuckled. "I was the same. I think Greymane wanted to attack you guys to play with your carcasses, more than to eat though. It was more of a threat to see how everyone reacted to my anger than any actual need to kill."

"That's exactly it!" Ginny exclaimed. "I'm sure that I still would have hurt someone if we hadn't had that impenetrable charm on the door."

Harry nodded. "We're stronger as Sabertooth and Greymane than we think we are. It's a little difficult to remember to restrain ourselves."

"Tell me about it." Hermione interrupted, rubbing at her arm. "I think I still have bruises from Sabertooth and her bird-catching stunt."

Remus laughed. "Did you try to eat her or something?"

"I was just playing." Ginny said seriously. "I'm sorry if I hurt you."

"Not at all, Sabertooth. I had to learn not to rile you somehow."

Harry was looking at Ginny. "I need to remember that you're able to slink around and be silent, wheras everywhere I go, my big heavy mane catches on leaves and twigs. I don't know how I'm supposed to hunt or anything. I'm too loud."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "It's the female cats that do the hunting in the wild."

Harry grinned. "So are you going to do my hunting for me? Bring rats to me on a platter?"

Ginny laughed, but didn't answer. She knew that he was talking about Peter Pettigrew, and Harry felt a little ashamed at having mentioned it. Remus furrowed his brow in reluctant understanding. Wormtail had after all been one of his childhood friends. It still seemed to be a sore spot.

"What about you, Hermione?-or rather Eyespy?" Remus asked pleasantly.

Hermione's eyes lit with excitement. "Being an owl is the coolest, most invigorating thing I've ever done. I've always been afraid of flying on a broomstick, but-"

"You're afraid of flying?" Ron interrupted. "You never said anything!"

"How am I supposed to tell 'mister quiddich' that I can't even bring myself to touch a broomstick?" She asked, looking thoroughly irritated.

"Good point." Ron submitted. Harry couldn't believe that Ron would just leave it at that, and not tease Hermione in some way about it. Ron seemed to be taking it much more maturely than even Hermione had anticipated, because she was staring at him warily, as if she still expected some ribbing.

"Anyhow," she continued, "to Eyespy, flying feels natural. She feels graceful in the air. My eyes see things most people wouldn't, and sometimes it feels a little like I'm looking in every direction at once. I can pivot my head much faster and further than ever." She tried to demonstrate the action, and ended up making a loud popping sound in her neck. She winced, and clutched at the back of her neck painfully. "Obviously it doesn't work as a human."

"It would be useful for spying on people." Remus said thoughtfully.

Hermione tried to nod without moving her neck, then shrugged the tension away, rolling her shoulders a little. "Hence the name."

"And why are you called Sidetrack?"

Ron blushed furiously, and everyone else laughed. "I got sidetracked by a grouse that was just outside the door of the shrieking shack on the night we learned."

Ginny giggled. "Yeah, Sidetrack has a thing for birds."

"And when Harry suggested the name, I kind of had something in mind like 'sidekick.' It sounded like a good alternative."

"Really?" Harry asked, astonished. "I didn't mean it that way."

Ron shrugged. "Don't worry, I'm kind of used to being low on the command scale here. Besides, it's always more interesting to be a sidekick. You have less obligation, but you still get to join in all the fun."

Harry and Ron exchanged sad smiles, and an understanding of sorts went between them. Harry knew Ron had always been stuck in the back of his family as the youngest boy, and when he had become friends with Harry he was always known as 'Harry Potter's friend'. It wasn't that Ron didn't want to be famous in his own right, for just being 'Ron Weasley' but with hearing the prophecy, he understood that being everyone's hero meant that you had a duty to fulfil everyone's expectations. Neither Harry nor Ron were entirely happy with their lot in life, but they could accept just being each other's friends.

Remus noticed the dark mood, and strove to dispell it. "Neville? What about Wrinkles?"

"Wrinkles has trouble breathing." He let out a loud snort, emulating himself, and laughter rolled through the Room of Requirement.

Neville chuckled. "I can smell things pretty well when I'm actually able to breathe. My sense of smell is much better than my eyesight. My eyes are pretty useless. My ears are quite good when they prick forwards, but the noise of my snorting wouldn't make me very useful for spying. And I'm not great at attacking, considering my size. But damn, can I ever run!" He chuckled at the thought again. "I don't take much time to consider what's underfoot or worry about what I'm going to run into. That's probably why I have such a flattened nose. I guess I probably just feel that whatever I meet, I can run away from just as fast."

"You've got a loud bark too." Harry said laughing. "A lot louder and deeper than I was expecting."

"That too." Neville finished. "But don't worry. It's worse than my bite."

They all groaned and rolled their eyes. "Neville that was awful!" Hermione winced, only just holding in her laughter.

"Padfoot used to say the same thing." Remus explained. "Usually just before one of us would knock him in the head or something."

Harry saw that he looked wistful although pleased, so he let the subject go without comment.

"Stickyfoot is just that." Luna began without being asked. "I've got these awesome feet that although, they aren't really 'sticky' in the usual sense of the word, I can literally stick anywhere. I'm not really sure how they work, but I can grab on to just about any surface without feeling as if I'm about to fall off. Check this out."

She changed into Stickyfoot and scrabbled over to the nearest wall. She climbed the wall all the way to the ceiling, and before they knew it, she was looking down at them from the furthest side of the room. She had climbed right across the ceiling, without even pausing to wonder how it might be done. She was a natural.

She came down the other side and turned back into Luna once she had reached the floor. "Now I'm no expert, but being able to sit on the ceiling could be pretty useful for spying."

"It certainly could." Remus said smiling. "As long as nobody looks up."

000000

Potions that afternoon was an absolute mess.

Harry and Neville were yet again, sharing a cauldron, which was probably what started their bad luck for the rest of the class. All it took was for professor Snape to walk in the room, and begin berating them.

Neville was flustered, and made one too many mistakes adding ingredients. Next thing they knew, students were being sent to the infirmary, and they had gotten detention for the coming Sunday, which was supposed to be a Hogsmeade day.

"Rotten luck." Said Ron as they all packed up their things, and slunk out the door. "At least it's over."

"Next time, Harry, double check what Neville's about to add to your potion. It could have ruined our plans for tonight if he'd decided to keep you in detention immediately." Hermione scolded.

"At least none of us got hit." Harry reasoned.

Neville laughed. "Yeah, did you see the way it fountained up and went right for the Slytherins? It's like it was destined for them or something. I'll have to see if I can get that result again."

Hermioine shook her head. "Only you, Neville, could pull that off without Snape suspecting that you hadn't done it on purpose."

Harry wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, he'd probably find some way to blame it on me."

Ron stopped and put his hand in the air dramatically, as if he were about to make a speech. "One of these days, Harry, someone else in some other house will incur Snape's boundless wrath. And when that day comes, the people in Gryiffindor house will celebrate, and salute you as the guest of honour."

Harry snorted. "Until then, the other houses see me as Snape's scapegoat, and they're all having a laugh at their own parties. I tell you, It'll be good to get away from all of this tonight."

That evening just as the sun was setting, a large group of disillusioned people made their way out to the shrieking shack. One might have noticed they were there if they had looked for ghostly puffs of breath in the chilled air.

They took the disillusionment charm off of each other while they walked through the long dark earthy tunnel. When they arrived at their destination, Harry put an impenetrable charm on the entrance tunnel, and another over the window exit, adjusting the board so it covered as much as possible. He immediately transformed into Greymane, and turned around to see that everyone else was also now in their animal forms.

They sat down, staring at Moony, and waited. Stickyfoot climbed up to the ceiling, and Eyespy flew up to perch on top of a broken cabinet.

"I don't mind if you watch," said Moony, looking slightly nervous, "but be prepared. It's not pleasant to see... this sort of thing." Remus looked as though he thought they might be afraid of him after tonight.

Greymane put his paw up on Moony's knee to let him know they weren't going to abandon him. He was also subtly reminding him that he had already seen it once while in third year. Sirius had protected them by turning into Padfoot. As scary as it was at the time, it had somehow morphed into a happy memory, wherin his godfather went to such extremes as to attack his best friend on Harry's behalf. He was sure this would be no different than that time. It would be frightening for sure, but only for a moment, and it felt incredibly good to know that they were helping Remus by being his new pack.

"Thank you." Remus nodded appreciatively at Greymane as he sat on the remnants of a broken chaise-longue.

It was less than a minute before Moony shuddered. "It's starting." He mumbled, then he began to gasp. He stood up, his unfocused eyes widening, and another shudder rippled down the werewolf's spine. Greymane and Sabertooth readied themselves to pounce if necessary. Both Sidetrack and Wrinkles hid themselves behind the two large cats' hindquarters.

Remus' gasps of pain turned into snarling yelps, and his body was no longer standing on two feet, but shifting itself downwards onto four paws. His eyes darkened, and began to glow faintly yellow in the shafts of moonlight now streaming in though the edges of the boarded up windows. His ears sprouted pointier than they had been, and hair grew all over his body. Claws sprung out, his nose elongated and a long matted grey tail poked from his behind. He snarled ferociously in pain as the bones of his body snapped and rebuilt themselves. He slowly grew so that his body size was roughly equivalent to those of both Greymane and Sabertooth combined.

The werewolf howled, and Greymane roared in sympathy.

Moony stood now on four shaky legs looking balefully at the assemblage of creatures, and Harry momentarily wondered at having ever been even remotely afraid of this beast. He was tall, leggy and a patchy grey brown in this form, and his stance was no less daunting to look upon now than that of a large and slightly decrepit dog. He seemed to have more power in his hind legs than a normal wolf, and Harry knew that he probably had the ablity to balance while standing upright. His snout was longer, and two menacing looking fangs poked out of his lips on either side of his jaw. The placid nature of his former defense teacher was still there, however the gleam in his flashing yellow eyes said all too much about how little it could take to set this beast upon some hapless victim.

With the explosive howling, Moony had released all of his pain and sorrow. All the weight of being human had flown out through those savage lips and it was only then that Harry understood.

He thought he'd known his tutor.

He had mistakenly assumed that Remus hated the wolf inside him and would have done anything to just be a normal human being, but he was wrong.

For this full moon, Remus could let himself go.

He could be what he craved and do things that were full of passion and hate and need and revenge. The Remus that Harry knew was repressed, overly self-conscious and sullen. The Moony that Greymane beheld in this moment was carefree and alive. He would be unable to keep his own mind restrained.

Remus must have hated that about himself.

What would it be like to know that if you ever wanted to be free, you had to give up all ability to restrain yourself? To possibly risk attacking someone you cared about? How would that feel? He knew that the wolfsbane potion was used as a part sedative for the wolf, and part neutralising agent, which made the wolf able to keep himself under control, but Moony would not have the benefit of his own restraint this full moon.

The wolf began to prowl the edges of his self-imposed cage, sniffing at the wooden slats that covered doors and windows. He pressed his face against the spaces and hungrily drew in the sweet smell of human flesh that wafted in from the town of Hogsmeade just beyond the hill.

He sighed wistfully, and turned to the group. He slumped his rear end to the floor as if to say, '_so what now?'_

The pack all moved forwards tentatively to sniff or observe the new arrival. Eyespy shifted on her bookshelf perch, and Stickyfoot trembled as she silently crept down the wall.

Greymane and Sidetrack, being natural pack animals, immediately accepted the new friend with little more than a press of flanks and a sniff. Wrinkles remained repeatedly to the back of Greymane and didn't dare touch Moony until he had seen that Sidetrack, being comparable in size to his pug form hadn't been eaten or maimed.

Sabertooth was content to let everyone else nudge and jostle and hoot and purr and yip while she cleaned her own shoulders in the corner. The tiger is not generally a pack animal, and knowing this, no one attempted to get her into the fray. She did press forwards once to sniff Moony once the rest had abandoned their sense of curiosity, but was otherwise reasonably content to believe in everyone else's assurance that he was safe.

One thing that Greymane discovered which was rather interesting was that he and Sabertooth could almost talk to one another in these forms. The only problem they had was they seemed to growl in different languages, or it was more like a different dialect of 'cat'. He was speaking lion, and she was speaking tiger. They were very close, but not enough for them to notice it immediately. Once they had spent a little bit of time sorting out tenses and basic definitions they could talk quite comfortably with each other, the dialect slowly expanding with use.

Sidetrack, Wrinkles and Moony seemed to be in the same boat, but they spent less time making up their own language, and more time learning the more complicated forms from Moony, who had apparently been speaking in 'dog' with Padfoot for quite some time. He also showed them all some interesting games they could try out as animals.

Sabertooth was surprisingly good at hide and seek they discovered. Once Moony, Wrinkles and Sidetrack had been able to convey the purpose and rules of the game through example, it was a very pleasant way to pass the time.

Greymane always seemed to be the first one discovered. The gangly lion now possessed a similar afinity for clumsiness as a slightly drunk Tonks. He barrelled about the shrieking shack knocking over bookshelves and tables, and tripping ungainly, landing on his whiskered face every time he used the stairs. He was repetitively made the 'seeker' throughout the game, but in this form it was a job he rather preferred. At first he only used his nose, but pretty soon their scent was everywhere in the house, and he actually had to use his other senses.

Even after everyone else had been found, however, Sabertooth remained sneakily absent until Greymane roared in frustration at the rest of the house. One wouldn't have expected a large jungle cat to just go missing in such a small building, but she seemed to be able to do just that. She would come slinking out of nowhere to his calls, looking very haughty and proud. No matter how many times they played, her hiding spot remained tauntingly elusive.

Stickyfoot should have been the one with the ability to hide easily, but her bright yellow skin and the fact that she always chose an open ceiling to hide on made her an easy target. Over the course of the night, she slowly improved her camouflage, and at one point remained undetected until after even Sabertooth had abandoned her invisible post.

The pack discovered just how dangerous their new wolf leader could be to humans when the sound of raised voices made the grey ears flatten in threat, and the throat begin to rumble with unsuppressed anger.

It is well known to the Wizarding community that a werewolf has no true need to go around eating people, but will attack with more fervour and skill in order to bite or maim an unsuspecting human. Other animals are always quite safe to him, but a human being would suffer a fate worse than death itself if a bite should come their way.

They would become a werewolf themselves.

It still wasn't too late in the morning, and even though the voices were far away near the outskirts of town, the singing still caught their sensitive ears. It was obvious that the wolf was finding it difficult not to throw himself at the loose slats over the door and go running out into the night after the two drunken Wizards. He even began to howl, and eyed the window that faced the forest, obviously plotting out his avenue of attack. They had replaced the rotted plywood board over it and charmed the opening, but it wouldn't be enough to stop Moony should he _really_ feel the neccessity to escape. He was far too large and powerful for that.

Greymane took two steps to the right, effectively cutting off the boarded exit, and Moony stood upon hind legs, getting ready to box his ears. Before he got in more than a threatening jab at the now hissing lion, Sabertooth abandoned her invisible hiding spot and came to stand next to the growling Moony and purr loudly in his ears to cover up the sound of the laughing and singing men in town.

Their efforts calmed him, and after a few tense moments, where Moony slumped back to the floor, and shook off the desire to attack, the pack was able to loosen their bunched muscles and almost reluctantly continue the games.

After this sight of Moony when he was out of control and on the hunt for human blood, Greymane knew he would be keeping a close watch on the moon phases from now on.

000000

The rest of the pack left Harry alone with Remus, who was resting on the mutilated bed in the Shrieking Shack at about four thirty AM, just after the moon had set.

Ron and Hermione promised to cover for Harry if anyone wanted to know where he had gone. They didn't have classes that day since it was Saturday, but people might still wonder where he was. Harry had thanked them, and they disappeared through the passage to the Whomping Willow. Harry made sure Hermione was confident in removing a dissilusionment charm before they went, so they could become visible again once they were safely back inside the school.

Harry conjured a blanket, and covered the shivering form of Remus with it. He also cast a heating charm around the room to ensure that Remus would stay warm.

"Th-Thank you." Remus stuttered through chattering teeth.

"Do you need anything else?" Harry asked, looking concerned.

"J-J-Just a bit of t-t-time. I'll be o-okay."

As Remus slept the morning away, Harry conjured a quill, some ink, parchments and envelopes. Over the course of the morning, he wrote and wrote and wrote, and after quite a long time of this, he stuffed all the letters into their envelopes, magically sealed them, and wrote on the front. This took him a total of about three hours. By the time he was finished, the morning sun was coming through the open windows, and he was quite tired.

Looking around the house revealed no extra sleeping accommodation other than the ripped up chaise-longue in the living room. It didn't look any more comfortable than the floor, and he thought he would rather be nearer to Remus in case he woke.

He went back up the stairs, and changed himself into Greymane. He circled the room three times sniffing for predators, then curled up happily at the bedside of his mentor.


	20. Good Advice

A/N: Thank you to all my reviewers. Just thought to mention that I won't be insulted if you tell me this next chapter really sucks. I think it's a little boring too. (by the way, I burst out laughing when I saw that review that said something along the lines of; 'this story is beginning to sound a lot like something JK Rowling would write if she were really bored.' Whoever said that, it's a classic!) Don't worry, the story does pick up again. Every once in awhile I went into a sort of 'Hagrid's Tale' type phase. I promise, I was well out of that sort of nonsense by the end.

Hufflepuff Disclaimer: Well, it's really not the money that matters, is it? I mean, The best part about this sort of writing is finding out how much fun everyone is having reading it. It's about being a real chum to people like JKR who let us borrow her characters. Er... Isn't it?

**Chapter Twenty -**

**Good Advice**

Harry's eyes opened to stare into the laughing ones of Remus, who was leaning over the side of the bed looking slightly green. "Good morning. Did you know that you twitch and growl while you sleep?" He asked, ruffling the big bushy mane weakly. "Did you have a dream about chasing mice or something?"

Greymane purred his laughter. In fact, he'd been dreaming very happily about chasing an engorged fly, but he thought it might be too silly to mention. He yawned and stretched, then changed back into Harry.

"What time is it?" Harry asked groggily.

"Just after eleven."

"S'too early." Harry grumbled.

"Too early for who? A vampire?" Remus croaked, sounding no closer to waking properly than Harry felt.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked him cautiously giving him a quick once-over to see that he had no broken appendages or anything. After hearing the horrible cracking sound Remus' bones had made when he was turning back into a human, it was a bit of a surprise to now find everything completely intact.

"I'm all right, considering. It's usually much worse just after I change back. When I'm nervous about it the night before, my muscles don't relax properly, and it's painful. The transformations are hard, but recovering is more difficult if I've hurt myself. And because you were there, I haven't hurt myself at all."

"That's good. Do you need anything?"

"No thanks. I'll probably just apparate back to Headquarters from here, once I'm feeling up to it, and then maybe I'll sleep for another few hours."

"Before you go..." Harry walked over to the makeshift desk he had made out of a small mouse infested cabinet. "I was hoping I could talk to you a bit."

"All right." Remus said. "First, do you mind casting another heating charm around this room? It's a little cold."

"All right." Harry heated the room with a wave of his hand, and Remus smiled.

"You've been practicing."

"I have. I can do quite a lot without a wand and without sound now. I still find it better for dueling and more comfortable to use my wand, but it's getting easier. I find it easiest when I'm doing charms like that one." As if to demonstrate, he also put a silencing charm on the room using nothing but a finger twitch. Remus must have felt the spell go up, because he smiled broadly. Harry grinned back. "Hermione is better at transfiguration without sound and wand but I was able to make it work for my animagus."

Remus smiled. "Good. Now what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Here." Harry handed over the envelopes he'd created earlier that morning, and Remus looked at them questioningly. "I was wondering if I could ask you to be the arbitrator of my will."

Remus gaped at him.

"I know it sounds awfully premature of me to be thinking of this sort of thing, but it feels important that I do this."

"Why?" Remus looked at the letters in his hands. They were labeled 'Eyespy', 'Sidetrack', 'Sabertooth', 'Wrinkles', 'Stickyfoot', and a particularily thick one labeled 'Moony.'

"It's because of the prophecy." Harry sighed, and sat down next to Remus, and resigned himself to telling the prophecy again. He couldn't help but wonder if now that he felt comfortable talking about it, he might be telling too many people, but each of the people that knew of it's contents were people he trusted wholeheartedly, and they were stronger people for the knowing.

He had now told the story so often, that he didn't even wince when he came to the part that said 'And one must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives.'

"All right. I'll do it." Remus answered. "This doesn't mean that I believe in prophecies, or that I believe that you're going to come out the loser if it is true, but just that I understand how important this is to you. I know you just want to be prepared for any eventuality. Just understand, Harry, that I believe this world to be a sad place indeed, when a sixteen-year-old is worried enough about his own death that he writes out a will and final letters to his friends."

"Don't worry Remus." Harry waved a hand in dismissal. "Everyone has to die eventually. Just think of this as a disease or something where I have a thirty percent-or-so chance that I'll survive."

Remus shuddered. "I don't like those odds at all."

"Yeah, but what can I do about it? I mean, other than just go completely insane and run after the most dangerous dark lord ever to have risen in a total murderous rage?"

"You can practice and learn as many defensive spells as necessary, then keep them all as secret as possible."

"What do you mean?"

"Well that thing you said about having power the dark lord knows not. If you keep more things about your abilities secret, then you have more options regarding what your power is that he doesn't know. I mean, I'm sure it's something to do with love and friendship like Dumbledore suggests, but knowing other things that can help you understand and use that strength can only be a positive move. As long as no one else knows you're sort of training yourself to do this."

"That makes sense, it's sort of what I was thinking anyhow. I just hadn't really made the consious decision."

"Maybe if you experiment a bit. Try out some spells of your own invention, you could hike up those odds as much as possible, and you would have an eighty or ninety percent chance of surviving."

Harry nodded. "I've never invented a spell before, but eighty percent sounds better than fifty percent."

"Try to think up or research spells that use emotional magic. Spells like the patronus spell that make you remember that you are _truly_ a light wizard."

Harry snorted with laughter. "Don't ever say that in front of professor Vector."

"Big fan of yours?"

"Just very enthusiastic about 'light wizardry'." Harry explained.

They sat in silence for a moment, before Remus said suddenly, "So where was Sabertooth hiding all that time? Did she tell you?"

Harry laughed. "She said she's keeping it a secret until next time. We're all going to have to gang up on her to discover it."

"Hmm... I think that could be fun."

"Sidetrack and Eyespy were trying to draw it out of her this morning. They started to get a little angry when she refused to let them know." Harry paused, thinking about what he had just said. It was almost second nature now to be thinking of his friends in their new nicknames, and Harry smiled at the thought.

Remus sighed, breaking the silence. "Well then, I think I'm feeling well enough to apparate. Help me up?"

Harry held out his arm, and Remus got unsteadily to his feet. "Goodbye Harry. Think about what I said, and I'll be sure to put these in a safe place."

"I will think about it. If I need to change some things about those in the future, I'll let you know. I'll be seeing you at Christmas."

They clasped their arms around each other, then Remus nodded, and popped out of the Shrieking shack.

000000

Inventing spells, as Harry quickly discovered, was a refined art.

In order to create a spell, one needed to first know what spells were available, and try to combine, or to alter those spells just enough to make them more useful in a specific setting.

Harry spent a good week in the library with nothing but a pile of basic arithmancy books and his wand.

The first two spells Harry made up, Hermione patiently informed him that they were already in use, and she demonstrated a far simpler version of both. Harry went back to the library feeling defeated.

The third spell was actually quite ingenious, but Harry felt a little guilty about the results. He was especially dismayed because of the fact that it had nothing to do with emotional magic. It was what he called the mastication charm, and it was meant to cause people to bite their tongues.

In essence, Harry thought that if the enemy couldn't speak, it was less likely that they would be able to curse him, unless they were very advanced at soundless magic. Not a bad goal in itself.

Of course, Hermione had to remind him that there was the 'silencio' charm available, making sounds disappear, but Harry argued that biting one's tongue gave the attacker something a bit more painful to think about than just the fact that he or she couldn't speak. He pointed out to her that she had been injured in the Department of Mysteries by a Death-Eater who had been supposedly silenced. It had only had an effect on the _intensity _of Dolohov's spell, not on the spell itself.

Mind you, he hadn't intended this new charm to be quite so successful.

He hadn't wanted to practice the spell on just anyone, in case something happened that he couldn't forsee, but for a whole week, he kept the spell in the back of his mind, waiting for his chance.

Draco Malfoy provided the perfect opportunity.

"They'll never know what hit them." Harry overheard Malfoy telling Crabbe and Goyle just outside their afternoon Potions class on Monday afternoon. He simulated crushing something with his hands, smacking them together and making a squishing noise with his mouth. Crabbe and Goyle burst out laughing.

He hadn't noticed Harry, Ron and Hermione following them at a distance, trying to look discreet.

Halfway to the entrance hall, Harry shoved his books behind a statue of a surly looking witch, and quickly rapped himself on the head. He felt the disillusionment spell running down his back, and turned to see that Ron and Hermione had each performed the spell on each other.

"All right?" he asked, and he could see their vague shadows nod simultaneously.

"Where have they gone?" he heard Ron ask. "I didn't see."

"They're heading for the door." Hermione answered, and sure enough, the three Slytherins were moving toward the tall oak front doors, looking warily over their shoulders.

They definitely missed seeing the three Gryffindors moving towards them, and stopping less than ten feet away.

The Slytherins slipped out the door, cackling to each other, and moved out across the frosty grounds towards the quiddich pitch.

Draco moved directly toward the Gryffindor change rooms, and glanced around, grinning evilly.

Harry, Ron and Hermione moved closer, and stood as still as possible behind the broom shed.

"_Portos maximus drac excrementos!" _Malfoy muttered, pointing his wand at the door.

"Uh-oh." Hermione whispered. "We do _not_ want that spell to function properly."

"I can imagine." Harry whispered back. Malfoy must have checked the bulletin board for quidditch practice times. Ron had booked the pitch for that afternoon.

"Is that Ben?" Ron whispered, his invisible head shimmered as it cocked to the side.

Harry listened. It certainly sounded like Ben Rogers was absently humming a tune in the changerooms, and the sound was moving auspiciously towards the door.

Hermione rapped herself viciously on the head, and leapt out from behind the shed. "Alohomora! Ouverte!" she yelled, effectively unlocking and opening the jinxed door, which set off a huge cascade of brown while also getting the perpetrators' attentions.

"Lashant!" Malfoy yelled pointing his wand angrily at Hermione, but Ron, who was still invisible, stepped in front of her, and blocked the whipping spell with a very visible advanced golden shield. It fired back toward the three goons, just missing Goyle's ear by an inch.

Harry knew this probably shouldn't turn into any sort of battle, so he stepped forward, also rapping himself on the head.

As soon as Draco saw Harry, he turned on him.

Harry knew he would be in danger if he didn't stop things quickly, so he pointed his own wand at Malfoy just as Malfoy was noticing him.

"Dentera!"

Malfoy howled. His head whipped back in sudden pain and he dropped his wand. The Slytherin screamed and brought his hands up to his mouth, which was spurting blood in all directions.

Harry grabbed Ron and Hermione, and pulled them back over behind the broom shed. He dissillusioned himself, and also rapped Hermione on the head.

"Ron! Get rid of the shield!" he hissed.

The large gold shield disappeared, and they waited, their invisible wands in hand.

Crabbe was busy trying to calm Malfoy down enough to look into his mouth, but Malfoy was having fits, and nothing Crabbe did was making any difference.

Goyle had wandered stupidly over to where the disillusioned trio were hidden. He had his wand drawn, but it wasn't all that well placed to defend himself if that had been their intention.

Nonetheless, Harry, Ron and Hermione stood deathly still, hardly breathing. As it was, he could feel Ron shaking with barely contained mirth at the sight of Crabbe, who was now trying to wipe the coating of smelly brown sludge off the bottom of his robes.

"There's no one here!" Goyle called over to Malfoy, but Malfoy was too distracted, and his tongue was too swollen and bloody to answer, and he just spat out a glob of blood, gave Goyle a disgusted glare, and ran away up to the infirmary with Crabbe hot on his heels.

Goyle peered cautiously beside the broom shed, but after a moment, shrugged stupidly, grabbed Malfoy's dropped wand, and followed his gang.

"Harry?" a familiar voice called tentatively from the back exit of the change rooms. Ben walked around the corner, avoiding the contaminated front entrance.

"Hey Ben." Harry called from the shadows.

"Harry? Where are you?"

Harry, Ron and Hermione re-isillusioned themselves all at about the same time, and Ben leapt back in surprise. "Whoa!" He yelled.

"Watch the pile there." Ron cautioned, pointing behind Ben's feet.

Ben looked behind him, taking careful reference of where he was standing, compared to the large pile of dragon dung. He was only a foot away from the pile of rancid manure.

"I guess you guys were the ones that stopped this from getting me?" he asked.

"Yeah," Hermione explained, "if you had opened that door, then the stuff would have hit you spot on. I'm not sure he was aiming for you specifically, but all the same..."

Ben turned a little green at the thought. "Thanks for that."

"You're welcome." Harry answered.

"What was that spell you just used, Harry?" Ben asked, cautiously. "I've never heard of it before."

"Come to think of it, neither have I." Ron broke in. "It looked as if he tried to bite off his tongue."

Harry grinned sheepishly. "I made it up. I didn't mean for it to have quite that much effect. He was only supposed to bite it, not bite it off."

Hermione shrugged. "I'm just glad you tried it on someone like him first, and not on us."

"Where do you guys learn all of these spells?" Ben asked. "I've hardly seen any of them. Wasn't that shield you used auror grade?" he asked, turning to Ron. "That's not the sort of thing you learn here."

"Experience." Ron explained.

"And practice." Harry pointed out. "Something of which every good Gryffindor needs plenty." And he moved forward to speak with Ben in a very low voice.

After only a minute, Ben had decided he would be joining the DA at the next meeting. He didn't really know what it was about, or what he was getting himself into, but if it could get him casting spells the same way Harry, Ron and Hermione just had, then it was worth the wait.

000000

Harry had some research to do, and he needed help.

"Hermione, what do you know about crime detection and sleuthing in the wizarding world?"

They were in the library late Sunday afternoon after Harry's detention from Snape, and although Ron and Hermione were both actually studying, Harry had stopped, and was propping up his chin on his fist looking thoughtful. The encounter with Malfoy and his goons had caused something of an awakening in Harry's mind.

Hermione looked at him blankly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean like Sherlock Holmes or something. The way he just _knows_ some things by analysing the facts, and that he can just be able to solve a puzzle by looking at it. And how he's always involved in the best sort of mysteries. Are there people like that in the wizarding world?"

"Sure-what who?" Ron asked.

Hermione tutted, and rolled her eyes. "Sherlock Holmes. He was a fictional muggle detective character." She turned to look at Harry with surprise on her face. "You know, I haven't got a clue. I know the ministry has some department for that, but..." She looked at the bookshelf behind Harry as though the information might just be absorbed through her skin. "I'll do some research for you. How's that?"

Harry nodded. It was more than he could have hoped for. With Hermione doing research she was likely to have anything in the library about wizarding detectives memorized by tomorrow.

"I suggest you ask the Fat Friar." Ron piped up, bringing his eyes casually back to his parchment.

Both Harry and Hermione stared at him in disbelief. When Ron's eyes lifted, he caught their gazes, and asked, "What?"

"Why the Fat Friar?" Harry asked. "What does the Ghost of Hufflepuff have to do with sleuthing?"

"Oh, Ernie MacMillain was bragging about the Fat Friar's career, and how back in the eleventh century, friars and religious leaders like him were sometimes more like detectives, since people would usually believe that the stuff they learned through detection was information sent to them by God. He said that the Fat Friar solved some pretty famous cases in his lifetime. He was especially useful because he could use magic means to do it."

"So obviously there are the same sort of detectives in the Wizarding world as in the Muggle world! There you go Harry! You can ask him!" Hermione grinned in excitement.

Ron pushed his half-finished essay away. "Are you thinking about becoming a detective or something?"

Harry darted his eyes around the library to make sure that no one was listening. "I was thinking that we should all become detectives." _If I live that long. _He thought to himself, but decided not to say it aloud.

Hermione and Ron gaped at him.

Hermione was the first one to pick her jaw up off the floor. "I'm not saying it's a bad idea, but why?"

"Well..." Harry began and cleared his throat. "We've all had a lot of experience with danger, and we're all pretty curious about what goes on around us. Ever since I found out about Aurors, I've wanted to be one, but I don't really want to work for the ministry." He paused to let the thoughts sink into their heads properly. "It seems to me that all Aurors do is get told which dark wizards to chase, then they have to go and do it. They never have much of a chance to actually _research_ that dark wizard, and why he is the way he is. Whether or not he or she is in fact, guilty of the crime."

Both Ron and Hermione had eyes as wide as saucers.

"Hermione, you said you didn't want to be an Auror, but you wanted to do somthing really worthwhile. I would say detecting is worthwhile. You could do lots of research that way, and still be in an active and maybe slightly dangerous job."

She nodded, looking stunned.

"And Ron, you're really good at strategy. I know you don't get the best marks and you don't feel like you stand out very much. Do you really just want to be an Auror for the ministry? Where all you get to do is what your superior tells you? Or do you want to apply your gift for strategy somewhere? Some job where you know people won't take advantage of you?"

"Harry this is genius!" Ron exploded at once.

"Thanks." Harry mumbled. "I think this could really work, if we know what we're doing. I mean, we've had a lot of experience just using our heads in tough situations, and we all tend to have pretty good fighting instincts..."

Hermione immediately slammed her book shut, and tromped off to the shelves.

"Did I say something wrong?" Harry muttered to Ron.

"I don't think so... She's looking for something specific."

Indeed she was. Harry had always been impressed with Hermione's ability to find any book she needed quickly, but this was getting rediculous. Hermione returned to their table after a search of about thirty seconds with a fat book titled 'Detection Spells'. "I think this could help." She flopped the book down in front of them.

"How do you do that?" Ron asked her amazed. "Do you have the whole library memorized or something?"

"Oh, well I was looking for something else earlier, and I came across this one. It wasn't what I was looking for, so I skipped it over. Now that I've looked closer, this isn't the only one. There are a few more like it on the shelf."

"You mean to tell me that you went through the entire library looking for one specific book? Bloody hell, Hermione! Did you ever find it?"

Hermione gave him a sharp frown, meaning she hadn't, and began to read aloud.

"This is the preface...right... 'The History of Wizarding Detection has been quite varied in its success. Because of this, not many wizarding detectives have been given notoriety, and the spells and methods are immediately seen as untrustworthy and easily falsified.'"

Ron sighed. "Well, so much for that. It was a good idea, but I don't want people to think I'm always lying to them. No offense Harry, but you've already been through that."

"Hang on..." Hermione scanned ahead a bit. "Ministry officials were forced to aknowledge the validity of detection in eighteen-fourty-six, and since then, the art of detection has been growing steadily in popularity. It is not yet recognized as binding fact in a ministry court setting, but British ministry wizards are now taking steps to remedy this dramatic oversight.' Hold on a minute... when was this published?" She flipped to the front page, and checked the publication date. "Eighteen ninety-four." She muttered. "I'll have to look up something more recent too, but for now..." she flipped back to the preface and continued to read.

"This text contains information on blood tracking, wand imprints, charm revealers, pensieve use, footprint and fingerprint dusting, image memorization, charms for sensing eavesdroppers, and the many detection potions that force statements and confirm veritability." Hermione's eyes opened wider and wider until it seemed that all they could see was her sparkling excited eyes. "Oh, Harry. Everything is here! This is so interesting!"

"Right. You read that then, and pass it on to us when you're done." Harry looked over to Ron, who looked just as excited. "We probably shouldn't tell anyone about this. I'm still not sure that this is what I want to do, but we'll stay quiet about it for now right?"

Ron began to laugh. "We'll call ourselves the Detective Agency! The DA for short!"

Hermione giggled. "Those letters do seem to fit themselves into the oddest of places. I guess if we say it in a certain context, then only the three of us will know what we're really talking about." She stood again and returned to the shelves. After a minute, she had retrieved another two books from the shelves. One titled, 'Amateur Sleuthing.' Which she handed to Ron. The other book she held was called 'A History of Wizarding Detection' and she handed it to Harry, saying, "Well, If we're going to be detectives we should know all the basics. We'll read them, and then trade. I'll ask Madam Pince if we can borrow some of these for over the Christmas holidays."

Homework was forgotten, and the now snowy outdoors could wait. The new Detective Agency remained in the library for the rest of the afternoon, and absorbed as many books on the subject as possible.


	21. The Hogsmeade Hunt

A/N: This is the chapter where everyone hates me by the end. (evil grin!) By the way, I'm too exhausted to really look this chapter over. I'm sure it's all great. See you!

Ravenclaw Disclaimer: Well, honestly! JKR wouldn't expect us to whittle our energies away on trivial pursuits. What else were we supposed to do with our time, except write?

**Chapter Twenty-one - **

**The Hogsmeade Hunt**

"I'm going to head over to the three broomsticks for a butterbeer, Anyone with me?" Hermione shivered in her heaviest cloak while she waited for the others to finish with their snowball fight. She and Luna had just returned to the hill beside the Shrieking Shack from Scrivenshaft's Quill Emporium.

Ron poked his head up above the barricade he and Ginny had created out of the heavily falling snow. "I'll come!" he shouted, and received a mitful of snow right in his face. His woolen hat was knocked off, and he spluttered furiously.

Harry and Neville were laughing uproariously at Ron's reaction, and they didn't see Ginny sneaking in from the side with two large fisfuls of snow.

Ginny grabbed the necklines of both their cloaks, and in a stunning two handed maneover, stuffed the contents down both their backs at once.

The resulting shrieks sounded embarrassingly feminine, and Ginny quickly used the giggling Hermione and a rather bored-looking Luna as her human shields.

Neville had succeeded in loosening the snow from his cloak, and scooped up two more handfuls before he'd noticed where she had gone. "Aww, come off it Sabertooth! We can't hit them! They weren't even part of it!"

"That's what I'm counting on!" Ginny muffled back to him from the protective folds of Hermione's cloak.

"So are you coming to the Three Broomsticks or not?" Luna said as she turned and began to saunter back down the hill towards Hogsmeade. She looked as though she hadn't just witnessed the torture-by-snow that Ginny had provided.

"Yeah, we're coming." Harry said, shaking the snow out of the hood of his cloak. "Just remember I owe you one Ginny." He sneered at her jokingly.

"Ooooh, I'm absolutely shaking in my boots!" She giggled sarcastically, still using Hermione as her cover.

Harry searched the folds of his cloak, and was quite surprised to come up empty. "Oh no! I've lost my wand!" Harry really didn't like the thought that he didn't have his wand on him. It made him feel vulnerable. The last time it had gone missing, someone had stolen it, and he didn't want to think that he might be in the same position now. He cast his eyes from left to right over the town, but no one looked overtly suspicious. It didn't seem he was being followed.

Ron and Neville turned and immediately began searching through the snow with Harry.

"I've found it!" Ron said exhuberantly, and he handed it to Harry.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, clutching his wand to his chest, and turned to see if Ginny had come out from her hiding spot. She hadn't, but Harry made a promise to himself that he would retaliate in some form later when he had the chance.

Ginny stayed hidden from both Neville and Harry until the pack had reached the door to the Three Broomsticks pub, and walked inside.

The air was warm in the pub, and the atmosphere was welcoming and pleasant.

Harry noticed professor Vector chatting excitedly to a drunk-looking professor Trelawney over at one of the small round tables near the Christmas tree in the back. He saw Snape standing beside Vector in the shadows and he was looking rather disgusted with the their topic. He looked over and sneered at the group of students for a moment, before Harry quickly looked away.

They took up one of the large booths opposite the bar, as far away from the teachers as possible. As much as Harry, Ron and Hermione were curious about the teacher's conversation, they didn't want to be that close to _those _particular teachers. Especially when they knew that Snape had spotted them coming in.

"Did you find the book you were looking for Hermione?" Ginny asked politely.

Hermione shook her head. "I didn't really expect to, but I thought someone might be able to point me in the right direction."

"And no one could?"

"No. I'll just have to check Flourish and Blotts in London over Christmas. Maybe they know where I can find it."

Madam Rosmerta hustled up to their table at that moment, and they all ordered butterbeer, except for Luna, who ordered something called a 'black cat', and specifically requested non-alcoholic, as though the barmaid couldn't tell that she was under seventeen.

"So, did everyone get a chance to get all their Christmas shopping done?" Hermione asked pleasantly, trying to get them back into the jovial Christmas spirit.

"I've still got one more thing to get and it'll be near impossible." Ron complained.

"Who's it for?" asked Ginny.

"Percy."

Ginny's eyes lit up. "It's okay. I've bought him something pretty good. You can go in on it with me, all right?"

"All right." Ron smiled. "What is it?"

Harry began to tune out the conversation a bit. He'd just felt something he hadn't in awhile.

A twinge in his scar.

It wasn't a bad one, and seeing as his scar nearly always felt a little sore, it was probably nothing to worry about. But he could feel a source of happiness and anticipation that he should not have felt. It was not his emotion to feel and as such, he was worried. Any time Voldemort was happy was not a good time for anyone else.

He made sure no one was watching him before he closed his eyes and relaxed.

000000

_The snow crunched thickly beneath his feet. His eyes stared at the cluster of people before him, and he smiled darkly._

_Far off behind, the tiny hamlet appeared on the horizon from behind a crude outcropping of gnarled trees._

"We begin immediately" 

_"Yes my Lord."_

_"Wormtail, you will be my eyes and ears." He pointed to the forest. "The rest of you will circle and destroy all that you see. Give any trustworthy person the opportunity to join with us, and if they refuse, kill them. Any mudbloods are to be forcefully questioned and then executed."_

_The Death-Eaters all nodded with anticipation, and all but one started to march off into position. There were twenty seven of them, and he felt they could surround the town quite easily._

_"I ask that you all return to me with wondrous news and a good number of hostages. You know who I want Bellatrix, that is your job. I will leave you to it."_

_"I'm looking forward to it." The female voice by his side whispered._

"Harry?"

Harry leapt to his feet, and smashed his thighs against the wooden table in the process. "Argh!" He ground out a hiss between clenched teeth. He looked at Ron, who had spoken, and realized the entire table was now looking at him with confused and worried expressions.

His scar still burned, and Harry knew they were all in danger. "Everyone, get out." He said forcefully. Fear burning through his blood, mixing with the feelings of anticipation and glee that were not his to feel. He pulled out his wand.

"What?" Hermione asked, looking mystified.

"Get-out!" Harry nearly yelled. "They're coming!"

The six friends leapt from their places simultaneously, making Madam Rosmerta halt in her path, and eye them angrily. She held a tray with five bottles and a black smoking goblet.

"Put them down anywhere, and get out." Harry told her. "It's going to get dangerous in here."

Madam Rosmerta didn't know Harry that well, but being a barmaid, she obviously heard things many people didn't. She trusted Harry without comment. She dropped the drinks on the table, rushed back behind the bar, and grabbed her shawl. She nodded to Harry once, then slipped out the back door.

_  
'One down...'_

"What will we do?" Hermione asked, putting on her cloak.

"Indeed?" Snape's thick voice ground them all to a halt. "What may I ask, would make six students, who have only just arrived, suddenly abandon their drinks without paying? Or might I add, even drinking them."

"Professor, they're coming here now!" Harry stared directly into his professor's eyes, making him see the truth. "They've got the whole town surrounded! We have to get all of these people out of here!"

As Snape stared menacingly at Harry, something amazing happened.

Snape nodded, and his eyes filled with unquestionable fear.

"We'll need more people." He said quickly. "Can I trust you to organize some sort of escape while I summon the Order?"

Harry nodded, stunned at the sudden change in the demeanor of his professor.

Snape twitched his wand.

Nothing happened.

Again, Snape's eyes flooded with fear, but this time also an icy resolve.

"They've put up an apparition ward." He whispered.

Harry felt as though he were sinking into the earth, and would never be heard from again. There was going to be a battle here, and there was very little that he could do about it. He would have to fight, and he would have to survive. Even now, the pain in his scar had dissipated almost completely, and Harry knew that Voldemort would not be here to confront him. The Dark Lord had gone home, and was waiting for news. The thought made him a little angry and frustrated that he wouldn't have the opportunity to end it all, but the fear still swirled dizzyingly through his head. He knew that Voldemort or no Voldemort, he and his friends were still not ready to fight.

Things had never been clearer to him in his life.

"Hermione, you can go."

"What?" she asked looking a little confused.

Ron's eyes lit up, and he pulled her aside so that Snape wouldn't overhear. "Eyespy is the one with the most likely chance of getting a message to Dumbledore." He said. "And you'll be safe if you go."

Hermione understood immediately. Ron turned to Neville.

"Neville, we need everyone in town to get into the trapdoor in Honeydukes and escape to Hogwarts. People will trust a sad-looking dog's instincts when they won't always trust a person."

Neville nodded, and he began to edge away with Hermione while Harry thought up some way of diverting people's attention. He thought that if somehow, he could draw all of the Death-Eaters away from the rest of town, Neville might have a better chance.

Before anyone could do anything however, the door of the Three Broomsticks pub was blasted inwards by what seemed to be a gale-force-wind and the whole pub errupted with screams. The flying door aimed itself directly at the pack, and the only one not able to get out of the way in time was Snape. The edge of the door caught his shoulder, and sent him spinning back into a table. Harry thought he might have heard something crack as the potions master landed, smashing the table, and he winced at the sound.

Snape's eyes were closed, and he was either dead or unconscious. They had no more chance to observe the sudden chaos before dark shadows crossed the threshold of the door.

Harry counted six of them, all wearing long black cloaks and white Death-Eater masks. He heard the screaming in the pub intensify, and many people overturned tables to protect themselves as they made their escape.

"Get me four of them! You know who I want!" He heard a woman screech, but didn't truly understand that the voice belonged to someone he knew and loathed.

Harry had his wand out and ready to fight even as he realised that the pack already seemed to be three less than before.

Hermione, Neville and Luna had disappeared.

A Great-Horned Owl flew through an open window in the back, a yellow gecko slithered under an armchair, and a curled brown tail disappeared behind the bar and out the back door. None of the Death-Eaters saw a thing amidst the dust.

"Ahhh... What have we here?" drawled the sickening voice of Lucius Malfoy behind the first Death-Eater mask. "My, my... all in one place! Our lord is certainly going to be impressed. Bellatrix! They're all here!" He pointed his wand back at Harry.

"Expelliarmus!"

"Protego!" Harry's shield seemed to be strong enough to preserve not only his own wand, but also those of Ron and Ginny.

"What do you think you're doing Malfoy?" Harry yelled. "I don't think Voldemort usually sends off a weak curse like that to start a fight! Dentera!"

Malfoy yelped, and let out a gargle of pain as his teeth began to chew uncontrollably on his tongue. Harry felt a sick sort of pleasure at having sent this curse at both Malfoys with similar results.

"Stupefy!" Ron yelled, and one of the other Death-Eaters collapsed.

The three of them took quick refuge behind the bar as the room exploded with spells and hexes. It seemed that the other few people who were left in the pub had been given a bit of hope by the actions of a few young children, and some of them joined the fight while their friends slipped out the windows and back door.

Malfoy was getting angry. Harry could feel the sizzling heat of his hexes as they whooshed overhead. Obviously he knew a thing or two about soundless magic, and could overcome the annoyance of pain. A stream of blood dripped from his pale lips, and he gargled to MacNair, who stood beside him.

MacNair translated for him, and yelled at a smaller Death-Eater. "We aren't enough here! Go get the others! Get as many of them as you can find!"

The diminutive Death-Eater nodded, and slipped out the door in compliance with Malfoy's apparent order.

The Death-Eaters began to stream in the doors. As much as the sight terrified Harry, he knew that Neville had more of a chance now. A couple of the Death-Eaters brandished their wands fiercely, but didn't make any moves toward Harry, Ron and Ginny. It was obvious that these new Death-Eaters were not quite as prepared for battle as Voldemort and Malfoy seemed to think.

Harry nodded at them, and laughed. "It seems your lord is just setting himself up for a major disappointment! Look at those losers he calls his faithful servants!" Harry yelled at the furiously machinating Malfoy. "Expelliarmus!" Malfoy wasn't able to get a shield up in time, due to his lost verbal skills and was blasted backwards into the side of an armchair. His wand flew into the air, and it landed on top of the bar.

Lucius Malfoy was badly injured from his fall. He had a broken leg and was gripping his ribs and wincing in pain. Harry saw him reach into a pocket and attempt to mutter an incantation around a seriously swollen and bleeding tongue then in a swirl of colour he was gone.

The laughter began.

It was shrill and full of uncontained mirth, and it was very obviously, the voice of Bellatrix Lestrange.

Harry felt a hatred fill him that he had never before realized. It was not a pleasant feeling, and Harry was a little disgusted with himself. It consumed him with contempt and the absolute dire need for him to _kill_ this woman.

"You killed Sirius." Harry yelled.

She laughed. It only incited Harry's wrath even more.

"You will pay for what you've done!" He spat the words as though they were venom, and Harry felt Ron and Ginny flinch at his sides.

The sudden realization that Harry still had some friends standing beside him stopped the curse from leaving his lips. Their presence pulled him back to reality.

Hadn't he told Hermione when school began that he could never kill out of revenge? What had made him think it would be all right now, just because it was this particular woman?

He sent another strong curse over the countertop, then turned to his friends. "Ron, go and help Neville get people out of the town."

"No!" Ron yelled. "I'm not leaving Ginny!"

"Excuse me?" Ginny said looking insulted. "Go, Ron. You're small enough to hide! Harry and I aren't!" She hissed.

Ron looked at his sister as Harry kept them covered with various spells. It seemed that the Death-Eaters had decided that this pub was where all of the action was happening, and were pouring in the door in droves. The few people from the pub that had stayed behind to help Harry and his friends were skirting their way out the back door looking terrified.

"Go!" Harry yelled once more. "I'll take care of her!" He wasn't really sure what he was going to do all alone with almost twenty Death-Eaters, but it was necessary for him to hold them off as long as possible. They could do that without Ron, but Neville would need some help. He momentarily berated himself. What was he doing, trying to save everyone again? He caught a few more Death-Eaters with incapacitating hexes before he remembered.

"My choice is to protect the innocent, Ron." He muttered quietly in between hexes and shield charms. "We know what we're doing."

Ron nodded with wide staring eyes, and looked once more at his sister, who had only just finished covering MacNair with great flapping bogies, then stunned him.

Sidetrack the fox slipped out the swinging back door, and Harry and Ginny covered his escape with a quick volley of curses. The flashes of light neatly concealed the opening and closing of the door.

A flash of light, and Ginny was on the ground, clutching her wand-hand. Someone had sent a stinging hex at her.

"Are you all right?" Harry yelled over the sound of the battle. He stopped his curse volleys to perform a fast healing spell on her singed palm.

Ginny groaned at the sting, but flexed her reddened fingers, picked up her wand and threw another curse over the counter.

The pause in the firing was all that the Death-Eaters had needed, and suddenly that horrible laughter Harry hated so much was right beside him pointing a wand at his head.

"I'm going to enjoy killing you..." she sneered.

"Lestrange! We were told not to kill them!" Harry heard another voice from behind the bar that he hated. His face flushed red with anger.

Before he could look at the figure, ropes had snapped around him, and he found it impossible to move. A gag fixed itself into his mouth, and he nearly choked.

Bellatrix laughed, and Harry saw her wrap more ropes around the struggling Ginny.

"What do you think Wormtail? She asked, lifting Harry bodily to his feet. "Will we have a Potter stew tonight? Or maybe we'll have his friend instead." Laughter went up from the crowd of Death-Eaters. There were about ten left conscious, and Harry felt a moment of satisfaction, knowing that he, Ron and Ginny had taken out more than half of them.

The snivelling rat glared at Bellatrix almost as hard as Harry did. "Not until after the Dark Lord has had his revenge Lestrange. We are _not _to kill him here!"

She frowned simperingly. "Oh, but I so want to!"

"We're to take him back to our lord, Bellatrix!"

She huffed. "We will. Don't worry your little head!" she turned to the rest of the masked figures. "What are you all doing here!? This was my task! I will complete it! Get your filthy hides out into the street, and look for Mudbloods!"

While Bellatrix screamed at the fidgeting Death-Eaters, Harry took a quick look around the pub. It seemed that the battle was over.

The masked group believed that Bellatrix and Wormtail had the situation well in hand, and were slowly filing out the door. All of them had confident smirks of pleasure on their faces.

There were six bodies on the floor. Snape was obviously unconcsious, as they could see his dust covered chest rising and falling amidst the rubble of the broken table and pieces of door. A thin trickle of blood ran down his face from a gash in his forehead.

_Hopefully he'll have a scar, then he'll understand what it's like._ Harry thought in anger.

Two other people who lay on the floor were tied up with ropes and very much awake and alive.

Professor Trelawney and Professor Vector were shivering and staring up at him from the corner where they had sat chatting earlier. They looked terrified, and Harry bit at the gag in his mouth angrily. Harry couldn't quite understand why they were there, and why they were still alive. Three other civillian people looked like they could be dead. It only made sense that the teachers should have been killed too. Didn't it?

Harry felt a little queasy at the sight of the dead bodies. He could only hope that he and Ginny would not soon be joining them. By the tone of the conversation between Wormtail and Lestrange, who were now the only ones left inside the pub, Harry felt reasonably confident that he would not be. He couldn't say the same for Ginny. He was the one they had wanted all along. If Ginny showed any signs of being a burden to them, they would kill her.

He positioned himself carefully between Bellatrix and Ginny, and shoved hard into her middle. She was caught completely unaware, as the focus of her anger was currently on Wormtail. An explosion went off beside her as Harry sent his wandless soundless magic out to a glass jar on the bar. Galleons, sickles and Knuts flew everywhere, and pelted at both Lestrange and Wormtail.

Bellatrix was sent stumbling back almost into the fireplace, and her mask came tumbling off. Her black eyes were livid. She looked to be truly insane, and Harry made certain he was still strategically between her and Ginny. He didn't dare look over at Vector and Trelawney.

Bellatrix's equilibrium returned quickly, and so, apparently, did her fervour for killing. She pointed her wand at Harry, looking murderous and completely out of her mind.

Her eyes flashed, and Harry gathered his anger for wandless soundless magic again. "Avada-"

What felt like an explosion rocked the foundations of the Three Broomsticks.

Bellatrix Lestrange was thrown off her feet and smashed her head hard against the stone wall above the fireplace.

The silence that filled the pub after this explosion was deafening.

Wormtail stood now where Bellatrix had been. He had one silver fist raised, and clenched. His wand was down at his side, unused.

Wormtail had just punched Bellatrix with his silver hand. His gift from his master had just been used to nearly decapitate his master's favorite Death-Eater.

Had Harry just seen Wormtail, of all people _protect _Harry from Bellatrix? Or had it been an illusion? Had Harry helped the power of the blow with his wandless and soundless magic? He had been intending to throw her backwards into the mantle. After analysing the spectacle before him, he could only hope that he had been unsuccessful.

Harry looked at Wormtail, who looked absolutely petrified, and his still clenched and raised fist was shaking in fear. He was staring at the dust covered, and crumpled form of Bellatrix Lestrange at the base of the empty fireplace, and a whimper escaped his lips.

A large pool of blood was slowly seeping onto the floor around her. The blood was coming mostly from the side of her head, where a massive gash gushed and pulsated with the shape of Wormtail's fist. She had another gash on the opposite side of her face where she had hit the fireplace. The blood was running in torrents down the side of her face and through her hair.

Bellatrix wasn't breathing anymore.

In fact she seemed to be dead.


	22. The Honeydukes Passage

Parseltongue Disclaimer: Haaashhhhiiiisssssssslaaathhhh tthhhhiiiiiissssssssttthhhhaaaalllll lllaatthssssssssss! (It's not mine, it's JK Rowling's!)

**Chapter Twenty-two –**

**The Honeydukes Passage**

The pool of blood surrounding Bellatrix' head ran along the lines of bricklay in the floor like an ever expanding demonic halo. No one moved, or uttered a word as her body shuddered a few times from half dead and dying nerves.

The silence in the pub persisted until the halo of blood reached the hearth of the fireplace and began to slow its progression.

"That's it." Wormtail mumbled, seeming to come to some sort of conclusion at the sight of the Dark Lord's murdered faithful servant. He turned to Harry, and quickly removed the gag and ropes with a wave of his wand. As soon as he was set free, Harry grabbed up his wand from the floor where it had fallen, and without pointing it away from Wormtail, performed a freeing charm on Ginny and the two teachers with a wave of his left hand.

"What do you think you're doing!?" Harry yelled at the now cowering form of Peter Pettigrew in front of him.

"I'm rescuing you." Wormtail muttered sadly, looking longingly at his silver hand. "Something I should have done a long time ago. I have a debt to you if I remember correctly."

Harry stared at him as though he might have lost his mind.

"What are you talking about?" He yelled angrily. "It's too late for that, don't you see?" he jabbed his wand in the man's face threateningly, and Wormtail wimpered in fear.

"I know!" He said, blubbering through his fingers. "I'm going to let you go now, because I haven't got anything to lose! The Dark Lord has ways of knowing... I'm doomed anyhow. It's too late... you were right..." He dropped his wand, and knealt beside Bellatrix Lestrange's mutillated body, imprinting his knees in the puddle of blood. "Oh James! You've always been right!"

Harry stared at him, horrified at the sound of hearing Pettigrew say his father's name. He wasn't sure if he was actually apologizing to his father's memory in his mind, or whether he had really snapped, and was calling _Harry_ James.

Pettigrew noticed Ginny standing beside him pointing her wand at him. "Oh Lily! I'm so sorry!"

"So what do we do?" Ginny asked in a terrified whisper.

"We leave him here." Harry said. "As soon as he tells us what his master's intentions are."

Wormtail reached his human hand out, and touched the side of his victim's face. He began to sob, and looked back up at Harry. "You have no time for questions! Get out! They'll kill you if they see you here! Please James!..."

Harry eyed the mad man appraisingly. He nodded to the two shaking professors in the shadows. "What did Voldemort want with our professors? I know why he wants me, but why them?"

"He wants to know the prophecy! He knows _she _can provide it! Now GO!" He practically screamed, standing up and waving his now bloody hand in Harry's face with no apparent regard for the wands pointing at him.

Harry backed away as he heard voices approaching outside the front door. He grasped Ginny's hand, and beckoned to his shivering teachers, and with one last nod at the insane traitorous rat, they all scurried through the kitchen and slipped out the back door into the snow.

"What about Luna?" Ginny whispered to Harry as they hid behind the dustbins out the back of the pub.

Harry reached into his pocket and felt the beads he carried. All six were warm, and he double checked, making sure he hadn't missed one. He would for sure have felt it if one of them were burning hot. No one had been hurt.

"Don't worry, she knows to stay hidden until she's sure the place is clear. I'll go back for her once we have some help from Dumbledore. We need to get them to Honeydukes." He nodded his head towards the strangely silent teachers they had following them. Harry could see that Trelawney was still a little too drunk to know just what was going on, and professor Vector was muttering to herself under her breath. Harry couldn't blame her wide eyes and pale complexion. She had just witnessed four people being murdered, and she was probably just waiting to fly off the handle. He didn't want to be near her when she did.

He had to get them all to a safe place as soon as possible.

"I don't understand it." A low growling voice made Harry duck and cover.

One of the Death-Eaters was talking to six others, as they walked quickly toward the Three Broomsticks.

"Before all of this started, I had a room full of mudbloods all rounded up and ready to dispose of. Honestly! I was going to burn the place! I just go out to grab a few more, get slightly distracted by the fight with Potter, and when I go back, they're all gone! I've been around the town three times already and it looks like the whole town has disappeared! It makes no sense I tell you. The wards are still in place, as far as I can tell, so What happened?"

Another Death Eater beside him nodded. "Our Lord is not going to be pleased."

MacNair shrugged. "Well, we've got him what he really wants, haven't we?" He smiled through the mask, and Harry shivered. They moved off, and the conversation became inaudible as they passed to the front of the pub.

Harry quickly surveyed the scene of Hogsmeade.

One building was burning, and smoke rose from the horizon. From what he could tell, it looked like Madam Puddifoot's tea shop, and he hoped no one had been hurt. It was a favourite place for students to go when they wanted to snog. Harry himself didn't think the shop too much of a loss, but he hoped Neville and Ron had gotten everyone out before the Death-Eaters had returned.

Other than that, the streets were strangely deserted.

"Ready?" Harry whispered. "We're going to head across the street to the back of Zonko's right now, then around Scrivenshaft's and into the back door of Honeydukes, all right?"

Only Ginny nodded, so Harry took hold of Professor Trelawney's arm, and dragged her to the front of the house where he could see better. Ginny followed, dragging the pale professor Vector behind her. Professor Vector's many bracelets jangled loudly, and she seemed to wake up a bit at the sound.

"Take those off, and leave them here." He said to her. She immediately complied, taking them off, and burying them in the snow against the wall of The Three Broomsticks.

The group of Death-Eaters opened the pub door, and they slipped inside.

He looked from side to side down the street, then watched as the last of the Death-Eaters walked in to the Three Broomsticks entrance. "All right, get ready... Now!" Harry whispered as he pulled Trelawney behind him through the snow, and across the street. He kept his wand trained on the ground behind them all to obliviate their footprints. Ginny did the same for both herself and Professor Vector.

It was a terrifying run. Harry knew that at any moment, a Death-Eater could look over and see them. They were wide in the open now, and if a battle were to start, there was nothing to hide behind. As it was, he heard a roar of anger from inside the Three Broomsticks pub, and realized that the Death-Eaters had just discovered their disappearance and Wormtail's treachery.

He put on a burst of speed, and the four of them arrived safely at Zonko's joke shop just as the Death-Eaters emerged once more and began to spread out. He didn't stop running however, and kept dragging his teacher behind him until they made it to the back door of Honeydukes.

Before running inside, Harry pressed his ear to the door, checking for voices.

"We have to go back and help!" he heard Ron's muffled voice exclaim, and Harry knew it would be safe to enter.

He made certain not to bang the door as it opened, and he shuffled the group in before him, waving his wand at the footprints in the snow, and closing the door softly. He and Ginny made a beeline for the stairs to the basement storage. The shivering teachers followed.

"Ron!" Harry called quietly. "We're here! We're safe!"

Ron and Neville's heads appeared looking alarmed from the top of the storage room stairwell.

"What is my Patronus?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"A falcon." Harry answered quickly. Understanding his friend's hesitation.

Ron sighed in relief, hugging Ginny quickly, and pushing her down the stairs. Neville's eyes darted from them to the empty door they had come in. "Where's Luna?" he asked, looking concerned.

"Stickyfoot's all right." Ginny answered letting him know that she had hidden in her animagus form. "She knows not to show herself until everyone's gone. We'll get Dumbledore to go back and get her."

Just as a precaution, Harry checked the ward beads again. Still, everyone was safe. He showed the beads to Neville. "I'll know if something happens, but for now, she's safe." The group started down the steps.

"Did everyone get out of the town safely?" Harry asked them nervously.

Neville nodded. "Everyone except the people who were in the Three Broomsticks, and there was a whole bunch of Death-Eaters burning down Madam Puddifoot's. All of the Death-Eater's seemed to center themselves around there and then moved on to The Three Broomsticks once they realized what was going on. I got people's attention by..." he stopped abruptly, looking pointedly at the teachers behind them, and Harry understood that he had barked to get their attention. "by making that sound that Wrinkles makes, and we came into here and they went down the passage. There were about sixty or seventy people in all, I would guess. Maybe more. Eyespy let them in at the other end while Sidetrack and I made a last circuit around the town. We couldn't see anyone else."

"Excuse me, but what passage are you talking about!?" Professor Vector asked, the enthusiasm seeping back into her voice.

"You'll see." Harry told her. "We need to keep going."

"All right." Ginny led the rest of the way down the steps to the storage basement at Ron's insistent pushing. Harry lifted the trap door, and they all descended into the earthy tunnel that led to Hogwarts.

Both teachers looked around themselves wonderously as each of the pack lit their wands, and they began the journey down the crampedtunnel.

Harry was the first to stop, and extinguish his wand. "Lights out!" He commanded, and immediately all four lights flickered to nothing without a word.

"What's happened?" Whispered Ron.

"Voices." Harry muttered to him, and they all stopped to listen.

Voices were certainly travelling through the long corridor, and after a moment of heartstopping silence, he realized they might be coming from in front of them rather than from behind. As the voices grew louder, Harry felt more and more certain of this, and recognized who it was moving towards them.

"It's Dumbledore!" Ron whispered. "I'm sure of it!"

It did sound as though Dumbledore had discovered the passage, and was now almost on top of the students.

"Lights!" Harry commanded, just as the lit wands of six others approached their position from around a bend.

They all lit their wands, including, Harry noticed, the two teachers behind him.

Professor Dumbledore started a little when as he saw the flared wand lights. "Harry! Thank goodness! And you have professor Trelawney with you! Good!" Harry paid particular attention to the fact that he hadn't been all that worried about professor Vector or the other students.

_Of course,_ he thought. _Trelawney is the one who is in danger. Wormtail said they wanted her to tell them the prophecy. How did they know she was the one to tell it? And why didn't Dumbledore tell the rest of the Order that Trelawney was in danger? _

Remus clutched at his chest, and moved forward in the small passage to hug Harry tightly.

Hermione did the same to Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Harry as soon as he was free from Remus' grip. "Thank goodness you're all okay!" She gasped.

"Headmaster! Luna's still out there somewhere! She was hidden somewhere in the Three Broomsticks the last we know." Neville looked at Professor Dumbledore pleadingly, and the professor wasted no time pushing past them towards Honeydukes. His face was pale and his lips thin and white. "Neville, I will find her. Please go with your schoolmates up to Gryffindor tower, and I will meet you there shortly." The headmaster swept off followed quickly by professor McGonagall, Remus, Kinglsey Shacklebolt and Tonks, who smiled encouragingly at them. "The rest of the Aurors are on their way." She mumbled, then turned and stumbled over a hidden tree root.

The students went to the end of the passage, and slipped out through the opening in the statue of the hunchbacked witch.

A huge crowd of people had gathered around the witch statue and chattering voices assaulted his eardrums when he stepped free of the witch's hump. They were all students, townsfolk and proprietors of Hogsmeade. Harry only then realized what sort of a mission they seemed to have singlehandedly accomplished. Most of these people were here only due to Neville and Ron. They had successfully evaded the Death-Eaters, and permitted all but three or four townspeople to escape a possible massacre of the whole town.

Trelawney leaned back against the wall, her eyes wide as saucers beneath her bulbuous glasses. She slumped to the floor, seemingly hyperventillating. The panic had only just hit her.

Professor Vector nodded blankly at Harry and his friends, and went to comfort her colleague.

A woman scurried up to Harry, and shook his hand enthusiastically. "Oh, thank you mister Potter! I would never have gotten out of that if it hadn't been for you and your friends!"

Harry stared at her. "You were in the Three Broomsticks?"

"Yes, and as soon as you kids started firing hexes, My friends and I were able to slip out the back door! Yes indeed, you are truly a hero! I was so worried that you wouldn't be able to make it out of there in time! How ingenius of you!"

Harry looked at her a little confused, and slightly angry. What right did she have to assume he had done it all? As far as he was concerned, Ron, Neville and Hermione had done the whole thing, and he and Ginny had bought them time. It wasn't much to be proud of, and he certainly shouldn't be getting the praise. "You realize, of course, that three civillians are even now lying dead on the floor of the Three Broomsticks?" _Trying to save you, _he added silently with simmering anger.

The woman looked suddenly horrified. "Oh no! I didn't know! Oh my! I came _that_ close! Thank you mister Potter! You've really saved my life!"

"It wasn't me, it was-"

Harry was cut off by a sharp jab in the ribs from Hermione.

"And to think." The woman continued as though he had not even spoken. "I was brought to the passage under Honeydukes very mysteriously! I didn't even know there was a passage here until those dogs showed me where to go!"  
Harry smirked. "I think you actually mean a pug and a red fox, right?"

Harry saw Ron and Neville blush brightly behind him.

"Oh, that's exactly it! How did you know?"

"I've seen them around town together before. They helped me find my wand earlier when I lost it in the snow." Ron and Neville looked embarassedly at their feet.

"Well, they're ever so helpful!" The woman gushed, and turned to tell her friends about the conversation.

Harry turned to the rest of the pack. "I think we should get up to Gryffindor Tower before anyone else stops us." He was so tired of people assuming that he was their hero. He just wanted to be somewhere else.

They all nodded, and pushed their way through the crowd only stopping once or twice when Harry was grabbed by people who wanted to thank him for his courage. He tried not to let them ramble on too much, and fidgeted nervously with his ward beads while he thought about where Luna might be, and if she was safe.

Apparently the mysterious pug and fox were already being cited as unknown heroes for those who had not been in the Three Broomsticks. Those who had witnessed Harry's defiance in the pub were convinced that he was the hero. None of the others were mentioned, except as 'Harry Potter's friends'. The comments seemed to set Harry boiling, even though the others only smiled a little at the reference.

The head boy and girl, were nervously trying to round everyone up, and send them into the great hal for a bit of soup and sandwitches the house elves had scrounged up. From the cacaphny of noise coming from the hall, it sounded as if the rest of the school had been sent there as well. The Pack made sure to escape as quickly as possible, and await Dumbledore in the tower as he had commanded.

They all collapsed into the soft chairs and watched the clock on the mantle tick away the seconds, or rather, tick away the moon phases. Harry wondered if the clock hadn't been placed there specifically for Moony when he was at Hogwarts. The thought made him wonder what Moony was doing in Hogsmeade right now, and he shuddered to think that he might be in trouble.

_At least we're not at the fight now. _Harry thought to himself. _As much as I want to join in, I'm certainly not ready. We've left the real fighting to the professionals. It'll be okay._

After a few minutes, Ron spoke up. "So how did you guys get out of the Three Broomsticks? I thought you were goners for sure!" He patted Ginny's shoulder, probably to reassure himself that she was real and that she was safe.

Harry did not want to tell them what had happened in the pub with Wormtail and Bellatrix. He still had the image of Wormtail's silver fist and Bellatrix's bleeding head imprinted on his mind. Ginny was obviously thinking the same way, and they shared shivery looks of apprehension. Ron seemed to understand, and didn't look as if he really needed an answer.

The wait seemed interminable. Each of them had worn their own circling paths into the red and gold Gryffindor carpets. Harry was trying to meditate by the fire while Ron and Ginny spoke in low voices on the couch. Nevile sat at one of the tables, his leg jangling, and his fingers nervously drumming on top. It looked like he was trying to finger a song, except he was going at four times the speed he'd ever even try on his cello.

Hermione sat on the girl's staircase, with her chin on her fist, and changed the chandelier into a low hanging punch bag, and then back into a chandelier without moving a muscle or saying a single thing. It seemed she needed to vent some frustration, because she quickly moved on to turning couch cushions into quiddich bats and bludgers. She was absently watching as they chased each other around the common room, occasionally crashing into each other, sending the bludgers pelting at the chandelier which was a punch bag again.

The sun was now touching the horizon outside the window, and Harry had been contemplating the possibilities that awaited Luna and Snape. He held the ward beads tightly in his fist, and kept rubbing the purple one, making certain that it had not gone any hotter. He was very close to leaving the tower to go and find Dumbledore when the door opened, and professor McGonagall and the headmaster himself stepped through, along with about twenty haggard looking students.

"Mister Potter, I must see you alone." Dumbledore's voice was cracked, and his eyes looked tired and old. He looked as though he was thoroughly disappointed with something and Harry hoped he wasn't angry with him.

The others gave Harry sypathetic looks before they were ushered away by an incredibly stressed out professor McGonagall. They disappeared into her office, and Harry followed their movements with his eyes wistfully.

Dumbledore escorted Harry out the portrait hole, and down many corridors until they arrived at the stone hippogriff gargoyle.

"Blood lollies." Said Dumbledore, and the gargoyle leapt aside to reveal the familiar rotating stair. They both ascended the staircase, and entered into the sanctuary of the Headmaster's office.

"Now, Harry. I believe you have something important to tell me?" Dumbledore asked as he lowered himself into the chair behind his desk. It was only then that Harry noticed the streaks of mud and what looked like soot on the Headmaster's robes and face.

Harry wasn't certain where he should start, or even _if_ he should start. He just stood there, staring at the Headmaster nervously for a second.

In order to tell Dumbledore all of the important things that had happened tonight, he needed to first reveal that they had all become animagi. He had made the promise to Luna that he would not tell anyone... did this count? Harry touched the beads in his pocket, and they all still had the same luke-warm worried feel to them. Luna would know if he told.

He decided to test the waters a bit by changing the subject. "Where is Luna sir? Is she all right?"

Dumbledore sighed heavily, and rubbed at his brow with shaking fingers. "We haven't been able to find her. The Order and a few trusted Aurors from the ministry are searching through the rubble, but there has been no sign of her."

Harry's heart sunk deep into his stomach, and he felt it painfully skip a beat. "_Rubble!?_ It wasn't rubble when we left! What happened?"

Dumbledore sighed."Hogsmeade... it has been razed to the ground Harry."

Harry blinked a few times in horrified disbelief. "How could it have been? All of it?"

"A few buildings were spared; Zonko's, Honeydukes, the apothecary, but most are now just smoldering piles of ash. The Death-Eaters were alarmingly thorough."

"The Three Broomsticks?"

"It's gone." Dumbledore answered. "The Death-Eaters decided to move their attack up a week, and change the venue. We had no way of knowing."

"No." Harry said, his legs beginning to shake with terror. "No." He repeated. "Luna was..." He could barely finish. "What about Snape?" he asked, "What about all of those people who were lying on the floor?! You can't tell me they're all...It's not possible!" He pulled out the ward beads and looked closely at the purple one. It had not changed. Had he performed the ward correctly? Did the warding not work when someone was in animagus form?

Harry couldn't ask Dumbledore any of these questions without giving something important away. "Was it because I signed up to leave for the Christmas holidays? Is that why they moved it up?" Dumbledore did not answer, and Harry could only assume it meant that he was right, and it was his fault. In the back of his mind, he was able to give himself adeqauate leeway in in his guilt, since it would also have been his fault if the school had been attacked. But those people who had been killed were people he didn't even _know! _How had his life degenerated so quickly to the point where people he didn't personally know were being murdered for his sake?

Harry collapsed onto a soft wingbacked chair opposite his headmaster.

Dumbledore absently brushed at a smudge on the sleeve of his robe."There is evidence that Professor Snape was lucky enough to be taken with the Death-Eaters when they went. I can only guess that they thought he was with them that night only under cover or something. He hasn't contacted us yet, but I'm sure it shouldn't be too long before he does." Dumbledore's face showed such despair that Harry understood he was trying to look on the bright side of things, and that there was the possibility that Snape had been taken away because someone had discovered his true allegiance.

Harry didn't want to think about it.

"How many are dead, sir? I need to know." He pleaded.

"Six dead, three still missing, including Professor Snape and your friend Miss Lovegood." Dumbledore seemed to have adopted a serene expression of neutral hopelessness and inevitability on his face, and Harry strove to do the same.

"Are there any other students that are dead or missing?"

"Just Miss Lovegood." Dumbledore assured. "The rest were Hogsmeade civilians. We suspect the third missing civillian may have joined forces with the Death-Eaters."

"Bellatrix Lestrange is dead." Harry said, very matter of factly, and Dumbledore's eyes snapped over to focus on Harry's.

"Not by me." He assured his headmaster, although Harry knew in his subconscious that he might at least have been partly responsible.

"Bellatrix tried to kill me, and... Wormtail... he stopped her. He knocked her in the face with his silver hand. She flew backwards into the fireplace, and cracked her head on the stone..."

Dumbledore nodded, closing his eyes, and pinching the bridge of his nose above his half-moon glasses. "You say it was Peter who saved you?" He asked.

"Yes, and he's probably dead now too. He said that Voldemort would know he had killed her, and would murder him too. He... he let us escape."

Dumbledore nodded. "And the reason you've all become animagi without telling me?"

Harry's heart nearly stopped beating then. "How did you know?"

"While we were searching through the rubble of the Three Broomsticks, Remus was intelligent, and might I say _distraught_ enough to mention that we could possibly be looking for a gecko body rather than a human body. He wouldn't tell me anymore, but I deduced that since Remus knew of her abilities, it was you who had told him. Following that thread, it only makes sense that she was not the only one who had accomplished the transfiguration."

Harry's eyes filled with tears, and he bode them to stay where they belonged until he could be alone. As it was, his voice cracked when he spoke.

"She showed us how."

"Really?" Dumbledore said sympathetically, but not looking at all surprised.

Harry felt the lump in his throat expand to the point of bursting. He desperately tried to swallow. "Yeah, she had all the manuals, and we'd been working on soundless and wandless magic in DA. We thought that the six of us might need to be more stealthy if we got into trouble again, and... she was right." The tears he had been holding back spilled over, and he felt his voice crack as the pressure from the lump in his thoat became too much. He did not reach up and wipe the tears away, but let them collect around the base of his glasses. For the first time in what felt like forever, he let Dumbledore see his pain.

"I should have gone back for her. I should have called out to her or something before we left... she could have come with us."

"Now there, Harry. We still have no proof that she has been killed. We will continue to search, and as soon as I know for sure what has happened, I'll let you and your friends know."

Harry nodded, and sniffed. "Okay."

"From what I've heard, you had a very tense battle today." When Harry nodded solemnly, he continued. "As proud as I am of your accomplishment, I'm relieved to hear that you didn't have to face Tom."

A shiver passed down Harry's spine, and he realized that he had never told Dumbledore the contents of Professor Trelawney's third prophecy.

"Sir, there was another prophecy that you don't know about. I'm afraid that it might have something to do with you."

Dumbledore tensed, but his eyes stayed soft and comforting. "I thought as much, since professor McGonagall had asked me about three, and I had to admit that I only knew of two."

Harry then spilled to Dumbledore the contents of the third prophecy, and about the help his friends had given him to resolve the first one in his mind.

Dumbledore nodded sagely. "There is no way to tell just what that might be referring to until it happens." He said. "For now, be content that you have resigned yourself to making the proper choice, and we will put it out of our minds."

Harry nodded, and clutched at the purple ward beads again.

"By the way Harry, if you don't mind me asking, what is your animagus?"

Harry lifted his head from observing the floor, and stared directly at his headmaster with sad eyes. He said nothing, but slipped down onto all fours as he let himself be taken over by Greymane. The sadness he felt was used to power the transfiguration, and he felt a ripple of pure anguish roll down his back along with the tufts of sprouting fur.

He blinked up at Dumbledore, and salty cat tears rolled down his face and clung to the tip of his cold black nose.

The headmaster looked completely unfazed. "There there." he consoled while he lightly patted the black mane, and traced the grey lightning-bolt. "We all need to escape ourselves every once in awhile. I understand that you and your friends need some privacy where this is concerned, so I will not inform the ministry."

Greymane's eyes widened, and he stared intently at the professor.

"I would however, like professor McGonagall to check your transfiguration over, just to make certain that you have done everything correctly."

Greymane nodded, and looked once more at the floor.

Dumbledore chucked him under the chin, and he was forced to look back up into his headmaster's eyes. "It's a very handsome animagus for you. The lion is known as a protector. It's the same one Gryffindor himself bore, and I'm very proud and impressed... I thought for a moment there that you might have been a pug or a fox." He smiled warmly at Greymane who purred, even though hot tears were still falling from his eyes.

Harry changed back into himself, returned the smile and turned to leave the office.

Just before disappearing back down the rotating stair, Harry called sadly back. "I think you should ask Neville and Ron about the pug and fox."


	23. The Detective Agency's First Case

A/N: Happy belated All Hallow's Eve everyone! (I was dressed as Tonks, but I couldn't quite get the hair colour right. Mine was sort of a pinkish brown. Unfortunately, the bubblegum pink hair is really all there is to Tonks's individuality. 'sigh' I should have tried Mrs. Figg.)

Disclaimer: I'm getting tired of thinking up really witty disclaimers, so I'll just have to say 'it's not my subject, and I'm not turning a profit from it.

**Chapter Twenty-three -**

**The Detective Agency's First Case**

The day after the battle in Hogsmeade, Harry woke to a Hogwarts that was horribly silent and foreboding. The halls were filled with somber faces, and the teachers hardly knew what to do with themselves. They sat at the head table with full plates and sour frowns, attempting to _not_ look anywhere specific. Professor Vector seemed to be the only one able to look at the Gryffindor table where Harry and his friends sat. She was smiling broadly and waved at him. Surprisingly enough, she waved to Ginny as well, obviously conveying her extreme thanks to both of them. Harry was strangely grateful that at least _one_ person was aknowledging Ginny.

"She seems to have recovered." Harry muttered as he prodded a sausage with his fork, not really willing to eat it.

"Taking it be'er dan moft." Ron said shortly, since his mouth was still half full of food. He alone seemed able to consume food today, even if it was on a slightly reduced scale.

"Yeah, everyone else is just staring." Hermione commented, forgetting to tell Ron off for speaking with his mouth full. She shuddered. "Horrible feeling really."

Harry knew that everyone was well aware of 'his' battle the day before. Even those who had not been present, or those who had not yet been informed by friends were sure to have noticed the Daily Prophet. You could hardly miss the huge front page of the newspaper that sprawled itself liberally over the tables. Just a cursive glance across the great hall allowed Harry to see at least twelve copies, not including the one he was holding, which Hermione had lent him for a few minutes.

_Harry Potter Defies Death-Eaters While Hogsmeade Burns_

_By Angela Downfish_

_Yesterday afternoon, as many as twenty five Death-Eaters fled the scene by portkey when the-boy-who-lived; Harry Potter, challenged them in the former pub "The Three Broomsticks"._

_Potter apparently intended to draw out the best of you-know-who's forces, and give the civillian population of Hogsmeade a chance to escape the worst of the destruction._

_"Potter was actually mouthing off at one of them!" Says impressed patron Janet Smalley, a witness to the battle scene in the pub. "I could hardly move I was so scared, and there he was battling it out with three of them at once! Imagine a sixteen year-old being able to do that!"_

_While The Three Broomsticks battle blazed, the small wizarding population of approximately eighty civillians and fourty visiting students were able to escape the burning villiage through a hidden passage directly connected to the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The reports are sketchy about how this passage was discovered, but many of the interviewed witnesses say that the passage was completely unknown until revealed to them by a small dog. _

_Some say it was a fox that led them to safety, and others thought it looked more like a pug. One witness insists she saw both a fox and a pug in separate instances. _

_"I might have thought Potter and those brave creatures were working together." Persephone Gladstone -proprietor of Scivenshaft's Quill Emporium- told reporters jokingly. "I spoke briefly to the hero of the hour when he returned to the castle and he was telling me that he had seen them around the town before."_

_If indeed this is the case, then Potter, the nameless pug and fox should all be congratulated for their immense accomplishment. In total, nineteen buildings were completely demolished, and only six people were killed. The death tally might have been much higher, seeing as the attack occurred suddenly and powerfully from all sides._

_A strong apparition ward was in place around the town, and people might have been badly cornered by you-know-who's masked army had it not been for the hidden underground passage._

_No actual sightings of He-Who-Must-Not-be-Named were noted, but with the deadly intent and cunning of this attack it cannot be denied that he was likely somewhere nearby coordinating the assault._

_For information on how to properly secure a wizarding home, and contact information regarding the protections of your home-town, turn to page eleven._

Harry wrinkled his nose at the newspaper in disgust. They hadn't mentioned Luna being missing at all, they didn't seem to understand that he hadn't done anything except try to run away, and get his friends and teachers out of the pub safely. Had the world gone mad? Didn't they understand that you couldn't possibly think properly when you had the threat of a death curse or the Cruciatus hanging in the balance?

Harry had lain the faulty ward beads out before him, and never let them get out of his sight. He couldn't understand what had gone so wrong with his warding, and was still hopeful that nothing had gone wrong after all. He was certain that if there was something interfering, then it was nothing to do with his actual casting of the ward.

His friends had all been extremely distraught when informed of the destruction of Hogsmeade, and the loss of Luna had hit them hard. She was always a bit of a loner and had a strangely ambivalent spacy nature, but she was kind, and smart, and helpful.

She had been their friend.

Over at the Ravenclaw table, very few people seemed to have noticed the absence of the fifth-year girl. The rest of the fifth-years were chatting animatedly and one was even primping before a small hand mirror. Some of the sixth-year Ravenclaws were looking sullen, but Harry saw that they were all those in the DA. It was those students who had somehow come to semi-appreciate Luna's quirky sense of humour.

Harry turned to Hermione and Ron, checking from side to side, making sure that no one was listening. "I think we need to get the _DA_ on the case. There's definitely something wrong here. Is there something in your books that might help us do some checking around?" he asked Hermione.

"Pensieve!" Ron hissed very suddenly, causing the other two to jump.

"Oh!" said Hermione. "Good idea! Harry was a witness, so he must have seen something!"

Harry shook his head. "We can't do it now, we have Defense in five minutes."

Hermione snorted. She obviously wanted to convey her extreme irritation with Trelawney, while at the same time, she was obviously weighing the option of schoolwork versus investigation.

Seeing as it was now the last week of school before Christmas holidays, the teachers hadn't planned anything extensive. They had been expecting classes filled with cheery overexhuberant students that couldn't stay focused for more than thirty seconds, but that just wasn't the case today.

In fact there was a feeling of tense apprehension between both teachers and students. No doubt Hermione thought that even with this noted lack of focus, she ought to at least be present for her classes.

Professor Flitwick had cancelled all of his classes for the whole week. The word in the halls was that he spent all of his time with the rescue Aurors and repair operatives in the rubble that had been Hogsmeade. As Luna's head of house, he seemed to be the most distraught besides those students in the DA.

The Slytherins were surprisingly quiet, as their head of house was missing. Only a select few thought they might know where he was, and there was no way that they were going to tell anyone their thoughts, so they were going out of their way to avoid the other students questions. Professor Dumbledore had told Hagrid that this was probably quite a good thing for the Order, as it might solidify the idea in some of the less trustworthy Slytherin students' minds that Snape was a trusted part of Voldemort's ranks. They would in turn tell their parents what a great stand Snape had made by remaining with the Dark Lord in his moment of need.

Once they had decided for sure that they were going to actually attend, Harry, Ron and Hermione were completely bored to tears in Trelawney's class. She didn't really do anything with the students, except make them read over their notes on 'verbal and mental defense strategies', while she sat at her desk shaking, wringing her white hands, and staring into nothing. She ended up dismissing them early, saying she wished to consult her crystal ball.

"Harry, could you stay a moment?"

Harry gaped. Obviously the experience in Hogsmeade had been more than a little traumatic for her. Now she was calling him by his first name? He hoped fervently that she wasn't about to offer to read his fortune. All she ever seemed to see in his future when reading for him was death.

"Yes Professor? What can I do for you?" He thought she could probably do with a bit of extra courtesy today. She looked beyond stressed. Her thick glasses sat crooked on her nose, her blue shawl was rumpled, and her hair was unrestrained and frizzy.

"I wanted to thank you for yesterday."

"You're welcome." Harry answered quickly, searching out the best possible escape route.

She seemed to want to say more, so Harry steeled himself and waited while she brought herself together.

"The Headmaster says I'm in danger."

"Yes. That's what we were told."

"He told you?"

Harry tried to think up a quick way to rewind his thoughts. He shouldn't have said that. "Well, I asked him why Voldemort would have wanted you, and he told me, besides, I gathered you were in danger from what Wormtail said."

"Then he's told you my prophecy?"

Harry hesitated. He had no choice but to lie about this. He didn't trust Trelawney enough to tell her that sort of thing. He could only hope that Dumbledore hadn't told her everything. "No, but I know there was one."

She nodded. "That's what he told me too."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. As long as Trelawney still didn't know what she'd prophesized, then everything was all right for now.

"So now that you know you're in danger, what are you going to do about it?" He asked.

"I don't know. That's what I wanted to ask you."

"Me?"

"For help, you know... _defending myself." _She whispered the last two words as though they were profane.

Although his face remained passive and thoughtful, inside his head Harry smirked. He knew this moment would end up being replayed in his mind for the rest of his life whenever he needed a laugh. The Hogwarts Defense Against The Dark Arts professor was asking him; mere student, Harry Potter, to teach her how to defend herself properly.

It was ludicrous.

It was laughable.

It made sense.

"What would you like to know?" he asked quietly.

She looked pleased that he had not laughed at her, and Harry gave himself a mental pat on the back. "I saw what you did in the Three Broomsticks. I heard what you said."

Harry's mind went blank at that comment. "What did I say?"

"You said 'My choice is to protect the innocent,' to mister Weasley. I thought it sounded heroic."

Harry just nodded, his tongue feeling twisted and heavy in his mouth.

Trelawney knotted her hands nervously. "I've never been one for whom fighting made any sense. I've never seen an actual battle, other than those that they have in history books. I don't want to fight, and I never saw that anyone else might have the need. It just didn't seem right to hurt people for spite, even if they were being terrible. It would be like sinking to their level..."

Harry shook his head. "That wasn't what I was doing-"

"I know." She interrupted. "What I saw in Hogsmeade made me realize that fighting isn't something that good people _want_ to do. It's not even something meant to hurt others."

"Professor, you must understand... People who think violently, the way Death-Eaters do will always need to be stopped. And very often, stopping them requires physical force."

She nodded. "To protect the innocent."

"Yes. Do you understand now why Ron, Hermione and I can't concentrate in your classes?"

She nodded, looking embarrassed. "You've seen things that make all of the lessons that I've given meaningless."

Harry shook his head. "Not meaningless, really. When I duel with dark wizards, I speak with them while I do, and I defend my point of view from safely behind a pointed wand. If you would like to learn how to defend yourself, words and mindset are very important, but they're not the be all and end all of defense. If Voldemort wanted to kill you, he would do it, and you would never have the chance to explain yourself. You wouldn't be given the time. Your death would be quick, painful and meaningless. The only way he would even give you a chance to speak is if he wanted information from you, and then you would tell him whatever he needed to know just to bring an end to the pain."

Trelawney had the good graces to look ashamed.

Harry took a deep breath. "Give yourself more time to think about what you want and to recover, and after Christmas we'll talk again."

Trelawney smiled quaveringly. "Thank you mister Potter."

So he was back to 'mister Potter' then? He nodded politely, and left the classroom.

000000

"Are you ready?"

The Detective Association sat quietly around Harry's pensieve in the common room later that afternoon at the time they normally had potions. None of them were at all convinced that they had seen the last of Luna Lovegood, and they were determined to replay yesterday afternoon's events in case they had missed some important clue.

At Harry's question, both Ron and Hermione nodded.

Harry touched his wand to his temple and withdrew a silver filament of thought. He dropped it into the bowl, and prodded the silvery substance with the tip.

The silver began to swirl, and the three friends leaned over the bowl to get a better view. An image of the Three Broomsticks appeared in the swirling liquid and Harry saw Ginny, Ron and himself hiding behind the bar, being pelted with spells. They watched as Death-Eaters swarmed the doors, and as Lucius Malfoy chewed on his own tongue trying to force out incantations through bloody lips.

"_It seems your lord is just setting himself up for a major disappointment!"_ Harry saw himself yell at Malfoy. _"Look at those losers he calls his faithful servants! Expelliarmus!"_ Malfoy wasn't able to get a shield up in time, and he was blasted backwards into the side of an armchair. His wand flew into the air, and it landed on top of the bar.

From this new perspective, they could see a flash of yellow crawl out from her hiding spot under the armchair, and up over Malfoy's leg. She seemed to be heading for the door, but never made it back to the ground. Malfoy kept moving his leg from side to side as he rocked in pain. She had crawled up over his good leg, and Harry recalled that at the time he had been much more sickened by the strange angle of the broken one.

No wonder he hadn't seen her there.

While Luna hung on to his flailing boot for dear life, Harry saw Malfoy reach into a pocket and mutter 'portus' then in a swirl of colour he and the yellow Gecko were both gone. Hermione gasped, and Ron sighed in semi-relief.

Luna was with the Death-Eaters.

Harry didn't want Ron to see the part of the memory where Ginny was hurt, so he prodded the liquid once more, and brought it back into his own mind.

"So that's it..." Ron mumbled. "Do you think she's still alive?"

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again." Harry answered. "Stickyfoot is smart enough to know when to show herself, and when not to."

"So she's just been crawling around Death-Eater headquarters as a gecko for the last twenty-four hours?" Hermione squeaked. "She couldn't be! They must know she's there!"

"Snape!" Harry suddenly perked up. "He's still not back is he?! She might have gone to him for help."

"Maybe..." Hermione mumbled. "We won't know for sure until we see him, and then we can ask."

"In the meantime," Harry quickly stowed his memory back where it belonged, "Dumbledore should know about this."

They all nodded, and went to tell the Headmaster what they had seen in the pensieve.

000000

"Blood Lollies." Said Harry, betting on the fact that Dumbledore had been too busy in the last day to change the password to his office.

He was correct. The gargoyle leapt aside, to reveal the rotating stair. The detectives moved up to the door quickly, and thumped solidly on the hard oak.

Dumbledore appeared after three knocks. "What can I do for you three?" he asked in surprise.

"We have some more information for you." They said quickly.

The sound of spluttered indignation came from the fireplace, and the three students looked over to see the head of Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge in the fireplace. "Now see here Dumbledore! You can't allow children to just waltz into any conversation you know!"

"Calm yourself Cornelius." Dumbledore consoled. "I believe these students might have some useful information about the attack on Hogsmeade."

"Oh, Mister Potter! I didn't realize it was you. Jolly good, all that stuff about you in the prophet Eh?"

Harry, quite rudely, didn't answer.

"Right, well I'll just pop out then and leave you to your conversation." The head in the fire turned to Dumbledore. "We still need to finalize some things. I'll call you back later." And he popped out.

"Well now, Misters Potter and Weasley, Miss Granger." Dumbledore said turning to the group. "What is this information you seem to have?"

"We know what happened to Luna. She's not dead." _Not yet at any rate._ Harry thought to himself.

Dumbledore's eyes lit up. "Where is she then?"

Ron stepped forward. "She's with the Death-Eaters. Wherever they are."

"Have you heard from professor Snape?" Hermione interjected.

Dumbledore looked confused. "We have not heard from professor Snape other than a brief message to say that he is safe, and will be returning to us as soon as possible. What makes you so sure that she is with the Death-Eaters?"

The concerned look in Dumbledore's eyes made Harry realize that Dumbledore thought Luna had _joined_ the Death-Eaters. "No, no." He waved his hands. "We think she got taken accidentally. We saw it in my pensieve. She crawled out over Malfoy's boot, and got taken with him when he portkeyed out. He didn't know she was there."

He pulled out his beads. "Her ward is working just fine. It made me wonder if I had cast it correctly. All six beads were warm for awhile, but now that Ron and Hermione know the truth, their beads are properly cool to the touch. Hers is still warm. She's safe, but afraid."

"We need to get her out of there." Ron said, stating the obvious.

"As soon as we have made contact with professor Snape, we will know for certain, and perhaps he can bring her back to us. We should know within the next day or two. I'll keep you all informed. Thank you."

Harry, Ron and Hermione nodded business-like, and headed out of the office.

"What was he talking to Fudge about?" Ron said angrily as soon as they were out of hearing range.

"Fudge's probably just getting advice from Dumbledore." Hermione answered.

"I wouldn't have given him any help." Harry said darkly. "Let Fudge boil in his own cauldron."

Hermione sighed, sounding exasperated. "We can't afford to have a minister who looks incompetent right now. Do you know what that would do to people? They might end up joining the Death-Eaters because they don't believe it's possible to win! If they do that, then we've got a much bigger problem on our hands than is necessary."

Ron and Harry agreed reluctantly.

"It doesn't mean I can't hate the man." Harry said angrily.

000000

It was almost three days of no news before Neville finally believed their tale about where Luna had gone, by which time he and the rest of the pack were already on the train back to London for the Christmas holidays. They hadn't wanted to tell him that they had been looking into her disappearance, so they had to tell him that it was information Dumbledore had somehow acquired. It was sort of true in a way, so they didn't feel too awkward about it.

All of the reast of the pack had decided for safety reasons that they would still be heading to Grimmauld Place for the holidays. Even Hermione's parents had agreed to join them for awhile.

Harry felt a little strange to be going away for Christmas on the train. Even last year, his trip to Grimmauld Place had been more of an accident, and they had all taken a portkey to get there.

"So you're sure she's safe?" Neville asked hesitantly.

"Of course she is." Harry answered assuredly. "Here, feel the beads if you don't believe me."

Neville grasped the beads out of Harry's hand, and moved his fingers gently over the purple one. Harry smiled, thinking that it was more than a little interesting that Neville had even remembered which colour Luna's ward was connected to.

Now that he thought about it, Neville had been the most concerned by her disappearance, and they had often been left alone throughout the summer. It crossed his mind that there might have been more than simple friendship to Luna's constant presence in their group than he'd thought.

Obviously the others had the same thoughts, because they were staring at Neville with bemused and sympathetic expressions.

Hermione patted him on the knee. "Don't let it trouble you too much right now, Neville. She knows how to stay out of trouble, and she'll be back before you know it."

Neville sighed, and handed back the beads. Harry replaced them carefully in his robe pocket.

The ride from that point on was insignificant, and they talked eagerly about seeing all of their parents in the same place once more. Of course, Harry and Neville stayed mostly out of the conversation, but Neville was happy to mention that his Gran was coming to stay with them.

The large circle of eight Order members surrounded them as they climbed off the train. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were accompanied by Remus, Mad-Eye, Tonks, Bill, and two other new members that Harry hadn't yet met. There was no time for greetings between the students and their parents before they were shuffled out to the alley. When Ginny went to say hello to her parents she was hushed by Mad-Eye, and shuffled forward as a sheep might have been. Two small looking cars were waiting for them, and the party of fourteen people crammed themselves in to the magically enlarged interiors. They pulled away, and drove quickly and silently off to number Twelve Grimmauld Place.

The building looked just as creepy and derelict as it had that past summer. The fog had not retreated, and Harry stared up depressedly into the black windows of the second and third floors. The mists created by people's breathing out in the chilly air only served to emphasize the essence of dark magic that surrounded the place. He felt a shiver of awareness, and looked more closely at the upstairs windows. A pale shadow pulled quickly away from his view.

They moved silently towards the door, and slipped inside.

As soon as the door shut behind them, the sound of enthusiastic greetings filled the entryway. Fred and George made sure to set off a few particularily loud firecrackers, sending the surprised Tonks careening out of control first backwards into Remus' chest, then through the open door of the kitchen. After picking Tonks and Remus up off the kitchen floor, and scolding the twins, Mrs. Weasley hugged all of her children, Harry, Hermione and Neville twice each. She cried a little and hung off of Mr. Weasley's shoulders.

"Now now, Molly. They're going to think that all you ever do is cry." Mr. Weasley admonished.

"Neville!" Mrs.Longbottom called from the landing at the top of the stairway. "St. Mungo's let your mum and dad come here for the holidays! Isn't that nice!" Harry realized that it must have been her pale face he'd seen in the upstairs window.

"Really?" Neville looked stunned. "Mum and Dad are here? Where are they?"

"Just upstairs!" She answered "They're napping right now, but I'm sure they'll be pleased to see you again. Come on up in about an hour, and you can say hello." As she and her clunking cane reached the downstairs hall, she ruffled Neville's hair affectionately. Neville beamed.

"How are you Harry?" Remus asked, limping forward to hug him.

"Not bad, myself. You?"

Remus shrugged. "Wasn't all that sore until a minute ago." He looked accusingly at Tonks, who blushed and smiled apologetically. "I'm going to miss Christmas again this year, so Molly's promised to celebrate it all two days early. Is that all right with everyone?"

They nodded, and the rest of the Pack smiled wistfully, hoping that Stickyfoot would be with them by the time the real Christmas Eve rolled around.

Harry touched Remus on the shoulder. "Remus, I was wondering if we could maybe have a few more lessons throughout the holidays. Do you feel up to it?"

Remus looked nervously at the assembled group, wondering how many of them knew about Harry's lessons over the summer.

"Don't worry." Harry told him quickly. "They sort of had to find out in September."

"Oh, then of course we'll continue."

No one noticed the door open and shut quietly behind them, except for Harry, who was now facing it. He moved to get a better view of the person that had just entered.

"Where is she?" He asked, his face suddenly twisting into a grimace of anger, and everyone turned to look at the shadowed person behind them.

Professor Snape stood shaky and pale at the back of the crowd. "Where is who?" he asked with only the trace of a sneer.

Harry realised that this was the first anyone had seen of Snape and that he still hadn't heard about Luna's disappearance. Nor had he contacted Dumbledore to let him know when or where he would be returning. Snape looked ill and in pain. He was limping, and his left arm he held cradled tightly to his chest. Obviously Number twelve Grimmauld Place had come to mind as a place of safety, if not comfort. The thought made Harry's stomach roll over with disgust.

It looked as though Snape had come to stay for the Holidays.

"Where is Luna? She would have come to you for help."

"Don't worry, I'm here." The pale form of Luna Lovegood stepped dramatically out from behind a now nearly asphixiating Severus Snape. She smiled innocently at his terrified yelp. "Thank you for the ride."


	24. The Dark Lord's Chosen Place

A/N: It feels like I'm really missing something from this chapter. I'm not sure what it is, but as soon as I think it up, I'll try and replace this. In the meantime, you get everything just as it is.

Thestral Disclaimer: Mmmmm.... Blooood....

**Chapter Twenty-Four –**

**The Dark Lord's Chosen Place**

Harry and Luna sat beside each other in the kitchen at the impromptu Order meeting. Interestingly enough, Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Neville were also allowed to participate today. Snape sat looking grouchy and sick at the furthest end away from the group of students. No doubt he thought that if he were to venture any nearer, he might be attacked by flying doors or something. McGonagall sat beside him, looking as though she didn't really know why she was there, but was pleased to be included.

Mrs. Longbottom sat in the chair beside professsor McGonagall, and Mister Lovegood sat clutching his daughter's hand beside Professor Dumbledore. Luna was trying her best to shake him off, so she could eat the pile of food Mrs. Weasley had eagerly plopped before her, insisting she fill her stomach.

Dumbledore looked incredibly relieved that both his Potions teacher and his missing student had returned relatively unscathed. He folded his fingers before his nose, and spoke quietly with Snape while members arrived and settled in.

When Molly and Arthur had finally taken their seats, he began. "Everyone, I'd like to introduce you to those responsible for the rescue of many Hogsmeade citizens and Hogwarts students in what the Death-Eaters have been apparently calling the 'Hogsmeade hunt'." He gestured to the students, and Harry was glad to see that he refrained from singling him out. The entire room seemed to focus in on him anyhow, and he mentally cursed the prophet for its rediculous lies and slander.

He was glad that Dumbledore had waited until they were all together to tell the rest of the Order. It meant that they would all be hearing the same information, and Harry wouldn't have to worry about being kept out of the loop about some things. It also worked in reverse, and Harry could make sure that his friends were not given innocuous lies to cover up Order secrets.

"In order to facilitate the rescue, these students were forced to do something highly unorthodox, and slightly illegal. I would have everyone's promise not to bring this to the attention of the ministry before we continue."

Nods went around the table. Even Snape bobbed his head once, and Dumbledore once again adressed the group of students. "Go ahead then."

"We became animagi." Luna offered easily, between bites of food, and some gasps sounded around the table. Obviously some people had already known about this, as they had been involved in the search operation for the Gecko-Luna. Luna's father looked immensely proud.

Mrs. Weasley was livid, and she rounded on Ron and Ginny. "What? both of you? How could you defy the law like that?!! The dangers involved!... I can't even surmise what was passing though your heads! What if you had been caught? What if something had gone wrong? Honestly, I..."

Dumbledore cleared his throat to interrupt her rant. "Yes, Molly. They all understood the dangers, yet the fact that they have done this allowed them to sucessfully evade the Death-Eaters, alert the Order, and evacuate almost an entire town single-handedly. I think despite the illegality of the issue, the risks may have been worth the cost."

Mrs. Weasley's mouth was left hanging open, and she passed her sharp concerned eyes over each of the offending teens, if only to check that they each still had all of their limbs.

Luna gave a brief explanation of their learning process, and they had promises from each of the attendees that their secret would not leak in any direction. Harry couldn't really assume that was the case, but he hoped that whichever ministry official that called them on their activities would be lenient, considering their actions in Hogsmeade.

They were each asked to demonstrate their accomplishment for professor McGonagall, and 'ooh's and 'ahh's came from Fred and George for each, as though they were observing a firework display.

They broke out in hearty applause when Ginny and Harry decided to show theirs together. The sight of a rather large set of lion and a tiger in close proximity to a crowd of people was undoubtedly a little impressive. Ginny gave an extra loud hissing roar to intensify the image, and Greymane knocked his large paws over the back of her head, trying to get her to stop. If McGonagall hadn't given them a stern glare, then a full blown jungle-cat fight just might have broken out.

Ron received cat calls from his brothers at his form, and Harry realized he had not been quite so original with his comment as Charlie also reiterated how 'foxy' he looked.

Hermione almost dive bombed the twins when they asked her to work in their owl delivery department at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, and Neville excitedly circled the table eight times before anyone was able to get their hands on him. While the twins chased Neville, Luna calmly informed the professor that she would need to stand on the table before changing, out of fear of getting trampled if she remained at ground level.

Once the room had settled down, and Snape had downed a bottle of headache potion or two, They began the story of what _really _happened in Hogsmeade. Not the stuff the rest of the wizarding world was reading about in the prophet.

Harry and Ginny explained what they had seen in the Three Broomsticks, including the fact that Bellatrix Lestrange was dead which, other than telling Dumbledore, Harry had thus far remained silent about, even to his friends. He couldn't yet tell them how it had happened, but it was sure to come out at some point.

Neville and Ron accounted for all of the places they had quietly emptied of people behind the Death-Eaters' backs. To Harry's relief, Madam Puddifoot's had been empty when the place began to burn, and that there had been a sign on the door saying 'Will return in 20 minutes'. Harry felt a little horrible for not having asked about it earlier.

Luna was just polishing off the last sausage on her plate, and was given the floor to begin her tale where everyone else's had broken off.

"I just wanted to get out of Malfoy's way, but I didn't take into account that he had brought a portkey with him." She told her audience. "When I climbed out from under the chair, I had to go over his foot, and once I finally hit the ground it was already too late."

"Where did you end up?" Mister Lovegood asked his daughter.

"I was at Death-Eater Headquarters. In the torture room."

A Gasp of fear rippled across the assembly.

"As my animagus is a Gecko, and a rather bright one at that, I ran away quickly, and stayed as far away from the torch light the entire time. I managed after a few minutes to hide myself inside a cupboard. I could see him from there."

"Who?" Dumbledore asked politely, even though he already knew just who she was talking about. He very obviously wanted to hear her say the name. To see if she could say it aloud.

"Voldemort." Luna said, without a twitch to her serene expression.

Dumbledore smiled, while everyone else –besides the students- flinched perceptibly.

"He walked into the room, and stood over Malfoy and a few other injured Death-Eaters, telling them that they had failed him and that they were not worthy of his attention. He used the cruciatus curse on them."

At this comment, Luna let out her first visible reaction to her experience. She closed her eyes and shuddered.

"Even when they were hurt and screaming already, he didn't let up."

"Go on." Dumbledore said softly after a lengthy pause.

Luna sighed and opened her eyes.

"I stayed there until they brought everyone else back. I wanted to hear what had happened in Hogsmeade after I left. I thought that if they had kidnapped anyone then I was most strategically placed to aid a rescue. I watched as the Death-Eaters portkeyed in from what they were calling 'the hunt'. Most of them were juniors, from what I could tell. A bunch of Death-Eaters out on their first mission sort of as a way to prove themselves, but I did recognize a few of them.

"A lot of them were injured, and the rest didn't stay uninjured for long. When Voldemort discovered that they had not brought back his two requested hostages, he had a right fit. He was told by one Death-Eater that at first they had actually captured four people. His requested two, and two more for a bit of persuasion. He was livid that they had somehow escaped."

"Ginny and professor Vector." Harry muttered, beginning to get angry at himself. "They would have used them to get Trelawney and I to talk wouldn't they?"

Dumbledore nodded. "The Death-Eaters, unlike their master Voldemort, seem to understand the meaning of friendship enough to be able to exploit it."

Harry carefully avoided looking at Ron, knowing he had failed in his promise to protect Ginny, and knowing that Ron wouldn't like that any more than Ginny's parents seemed to like it.

Molly looked like she was about to faint, and was waving her hand fan-like before her to hold off an attack of the vapours.

Luna shrugged. "They didn't say who they had caught, but mentioned that you had been able to free yourselves, and that by the time they returned to the Three Broomsticks, Bellatrix was dead, and you were nowhere to be found.

"Another man who was being guarded and was in chains stepped forward at that point to accept punishment for killing Bellatrix." She nodded to Harry and Ginny. "He said he had freed you on purpose, and wanted to be punished as a traitor."

Harry whispered the name. "Wormtail." And looked over at Remus.

Remus flinched, and Harry quickly stared back at Luna.

"What did Voldemort do to him?" Remus asked.

"Voldemort was incredibly angry at him, and tortured him for a long time, completely forgetting about the others. Part of his torture was that he took away his silver hand, and watched as Wormtail bled all over the torture room floor."

The silence that permeated the kitchen was wistful and full of regret. Even Snape managed a small sigh, but that may have been just to ease his many tense muscles.

"He told me that he was doomed anyhow, and wanted to repay some of his mistakes before he died." Harry muttered this only to break the intensity of the silence. "He said he owed me."

"He was able to show quite a bit of courage in the end." Luna answered, seeming to understand how important it was for Remus and Harry to hear it. "As he lay there, bleeding to death and being tortured intermittently, he told Voldemort that he appreciated his punishment. His last words were;'A life without friendship and love, Voldemort, is not a life worth living.' I have to admit that I was impressed to hear him say 'Voldemort.' That's probably the reason that they were his last words. Voldemort was so angry at the sound of his own name that he couldn't refrain from killing him."

Remus lowered his eyes to the tabletop, and Harry felt the hatred and remorse wash over him from that end of the table. Even though Peter Pettigrew had done many horrible things in his life, Remus had trusted him once. It must have been a horrible thing to know that his friend had pushed him away in search of some ever-elusive thread of power, had lived in pain and fear, and then had then died because of it.

"Voldemort wanted Wormtail to pay. He said that he could understand Wormtail's debt to Harry, and no doubt that was why he had let Harry go, but he could not accept losing the one in his chosen place. I don't know why he was saying that."

"He wanted Trelawney," Harry said quickly, remembering the hastily imparted information the crazed Wormtail had given, "because she's the one who could tell him the full prophecy."

"Why would she be the 'one for his chosen place' though?" Ron asked, looking frustrated.

Hermione gasped. "Harry, didn't you say that you thought the job of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was jinxed? Could that post be his 'chosen place'?"

Harry gasped. "Of course! Voldemort had the position jinxed! He didn't want us to learn anything important defense-wise. After all, I'm the one who's supp..." he trailed off, but then regrouped after a slight hesitation. "...who he mostly seems to be after, so obviously he would want to make it so that I couldn't fight back. No defense lessons for me or for anyone else my age gives him a distinct advantage."

Dumbledore nodded perceptibly at Harry's quick rewind, but McGonagall frowned. She first eyed Harry knowingly, then glared at Dumbledore. "But if the job were jinxed, then that means..." She trailed off with her hand about to gesture towards the very pale looking Remus.

"I think it's a good thing I left after a year." Remus said quietly.

"That was exactly the reason I did not want the jinx publicised." Dumbledore said emphatically, and everyone gaped at him.

"You mean you knew! You knew and you never told anyone?!" Harry exploded. "That is so typical!"

Mrs. Weasley gasped.

The headmaster only shrugged, not really worried about Harry's sudden rudeness, and Mrs. Weasley's confused eyes darted between them. "I knew that if word were to get around that the job were truly jinxed, then I would never be able to fill the post again. If it were simply an unverified rumor, I would get only the bravest or – unfortunately – dimwitted teachers to take the post. I needed the post filled for all of the students' sakes."

All the teachers present looked rather disgusted with Dumbledore.

Snape in particular, looked to be foaming at the mouth with the way his scowl intensified. "Is this the reason you would not give me the post, Headmaster? Am I considered to be too much a weak Slytherin for your tastes? Not Gryffindor enough to appease your sense of bravery? Or is it that you think I am too dimwitted to understand the difficulties involved with a relatively simple jinx?"

McGonagall flushed with not quite suppressed anger. "Why didn't you tell us Albus? What about poor Sybil? What do you think she's going through right now? She didn't know she was in danger, and now it's worse! How can you expect to protect people when they don't even have the resources or knowledge to help protect themselves? Are we not in the business of teaching, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore's embarrassed eyes met Harry's and he knew that they were thinking in unison- that Dumbledore had done the same thing to Harry last year when he neglected to tell Harry about the prophecy. He had thought to be protecting him, but it had all blown up in his face. It was happening again now, and there was very little he could do about it except apologise. Harry was already sorry that he had insulted the headmaster, and he couldn't let this spiral out of control any more.

"It might have been nice to know I was accepting a jinxed position." Remus mumbled, staring at the table as though it might burn if he glared harder. His face was flushed and Harry could tell he was very angry. "Not that I would have said no to you Albus, but I should have known that there was a possibility of consequences. It should have been my risk to take."

Snape's lip curled. "I never thought there would be a day I might agree with you Lupin, but even I am known to be wrong from time to time."

Remus' mouth twitched in a poor imitation of a grin. "There's a first time for everything Snape."

Harry looked around at the group in astonishment. Moony and Snape, _agreeing about something? _What was the Order coming to? He had unwittingly set all of the teachers against Dumbledore, and although Harry personally thought that in a way Dumbledore deserved their anger, he desperately needed to dispell the tension somehow.

This was really nothing but a petty argument compared to what awaited them. However, even a petty argument could spawn mistrust and doubt in any organization. It was not something the Order could afford now. He had the feeling that none of the others, except Dumbledore had realised what was happening to them. Everyone looked either glaringly angry, appalled or completely bewildered.

Besides, Harry was getting desperate to hear about Luna and the rest of her experiences in the Death-Eaters encampment. Dumbledore and his problems could wait.

"Professor Dumbledore? What would happen if you were to change the name of the course? I don't feel as if the DA is included in this jinx, or else something would have happened to me by now, wouldn't it?"

"The jinx has nothing to do with the title of the course." Dumbledore answered. "It has to do with the people who choose to teach it. I couldn't possibly change the course title, it was ingrained magically into the school curriculum at the time of the four founders. It's impossible to alter."

"Could it be that it hasn't affected the DA because we're operating out of normal school hours? Or maybe it's because I'm not technically a teacher? Maybe the Defense class could do the same or something? There are plenty of ways around the issue, I'm sure you can resolve something there. We don't have to discuss this now. It's not really important yet."

Jaws dropped around the table, including Dumbledore's. His pale hand came up as though to smack himself in the head at his own stupidity, but he held himself in check as he mumbled. "Harry, every time I've seen you in an Order meeting it makes me feel more and more like I should have inducted you immediately upon Voldemort's return."

McGonagall gasped, and looked pointedly at the other students sitting beside Harry. Dumbledore flushed white at what, in his amazement at Harry's insight, he had just unwittingly revealed. He was not used to keeping silent in these meetings and had obviously forgotten that the children weren't to know about Harry's member status.

He began to look even more confused when none of the students batted an eye at his comment. They didn't even look suspicious or confused. Harry smirked at him knowingly, and raised one eyebrow.

"Don't worry." Ron said easily. "We already knew. Only the five of us know about Harry already being a member. We haven't told anyone else."

Molly gasped loudly. She stared at Harry in anger. "I thought you promised-"

"I didn't tell them." Harry cut her off defiantly, looking directly at Dumbledore as he spoke, letting him see how true the statement was. Harry was proud of his friends, and wanted them to know everything about him. No matter what Dumbledore insisted. He would find a way to let them know everything without defying anyone and now Dumbledore knew it.

After all, Dumbledore had made him promise not to discuss it with anyone else, and he hadn't. He had been discussing it with Hagrid at the time.

Ron continued. "We also knew that this battle was supposed to happen over the Christmas holidays on Hogwarts grounds, but something made Voldemort change his mind. Voldemort needed to have Harry and Trelawney in the same spot, and he needed them in a reasonably quiet place. We ruined that plan. I believe it might have been our decision to come here for the Christmas break."

The longer Ron spoke, the wider everyone's eyes seemed to get. Snape's nose had turned up in disdain, and Mrs. Weasley was practically hyperventilating in her seat. She was muttering to her slack jawed husband, 'they're not supposed.... How could they?... but...if Harry didn't... then...' she continued her nonsensical rambling, even while Ron explained to everyone that Harry and Trelawney must have tripped some sort of ward once they were in the same building.

Harry hadn't even thought of that one, but it must have been true. How else would the Death-Eaters have known to attack at that particular time? He was incredibly proud of Ron for bringing the idea to everyone's attention, especially since he knew that it was a very simple sort of ward to construct.

"I hesitate to ask how..." Dumbledore trailed off, then shook his head in disbelief. Obviously everything he could see in Harry's eyes told him that he had not betrayed them. Harry didn't want to get Hagrid in trouble, so he said nothing. He might tell Dumbledore the next time they were alone, but this wasn't something the whole Order needed to hear about.

Dumbledore sighed. "Well it's all out now. I guess we have no recourse but to accept each of these students as members under the same rules that apply to Harry."

Both Molly and Arthur twitched, and looked at Ginny, who was sitting placid and defiant to Harry's right. She knew what her parents were thinking.

"Ginny too?" Arthur asked with a tense grind to his voice very few people had ever heard.

"Ginevra will be invited along with the others. I believe she played just as important a role in the Hogsmeade fight as the others." Dumbledore nodded. "We'll make the arrangements afterward. In the meantime, I believe we have a story that needs finishing?"

Obviously Molly and Arthur wanted to discuss it now, as Ginny was their only daughter, and the youngest Weasley. Dumbledore was able to silence their protests for the time being with an intense look, but it was obvious that they were not happy, and Dumbledore would have more explaining to do afterwards.

Luna cleared her throat. "Yes. Right." She gazed at the flame in the centre of the table with a look of almost boredom as she tried to regain the thread of her story.

"Your return?" Dumbledore coaxed.

"Yes, right. I saw the unconscious professor Snape being taken to the infirmary, and I made certain to be near him as much as possible. I thought I might either reveal myself to him when he was alone or hitch a ride out when he finally was well enough to use a portkey. As you might have guessed, I chose the latter, since he was never really alone. On his return, he did not know that I was safely stowed away in the hem of his cloak. I'm very pleased that his steps are sure and direct. Someone more fumble-footed may have unwittingly trod on their cloak's hem, and squashed me." Luna said the last words without even the hint of a joke behind them and although Harry felt like laughing, he was able to rein himself in. He understood enough about Luna to know that if she had intended it as a joke, she would have laughed at it herself.

She then turned to the moody and ill looking professor Snape. "I should inform you that you are under more suspicion than you know. From what I heard in the torture chamber, it isn't just Voldemort who suspects you of being a double agent. I think Malfoy was mumbling something about it to Crabbe and Goyle. If those two have the same amount of brain as their sons, you will soon be labelled a traitor by the rest of the Death-Eaters. Funny though, how Malfoy was talking. It sounded like he had a lisp or something..."

Snape's sneer faltered as he digested the information Luna had given. He looked almost afraid again. "What do you propose?" He reluctantly consulted Dumbledore.

The Headmaster shrugged. "I believe that you are already in quite a lot of danger, no matter what you decide. The choice is yours if you wish to continue or not."

Snape's spine straightened minutely. "I will continue." He said immediately. "But..."

"Yes, Severus?"

"It might be useful to have another measure of protection." He looked almost embarassed to have to request more help.

"You have something to suggest?"

Snape nodded. "Even though I am evidently not in the same circles I once was, some of the other Death-Eaters still do not know why, and are speaking freely to me. One of them told me that those involved in the Hogsmeade Hunt were given portkeys. They each now own an amulet that whenever it is touched and the incantation is spoken, it will immediately return them to the base. These portkeys are apparently sufficient to be used more than once, and only those in the upper circle are supposed to know how to make them."

"Can you find out how? It may be of use." Dumbledore asked thoughtfully.

Snape smirked again. "I already have professor, I will teach you."

Dumbledore smiled. "Very efficient of you Severus. I will meet you in the Study later." He stood. "This meeting is adjourned. Molly, Arthur, I would like to speak with you for a moment. Students?"

The full pack looked up at him.

"Please wait for me in the hall."

They all nodded and went to stand beyond the doorway threshold.

"Are you sure you weren't supposed to be in Gryffindor Luna?" Neville eyed her warily. "What you did was amazing."

Luna blushed. "Thank you."

"Are you kidding Neville?" Hermione smirked. "Any self respecting Gryffindor would have interfered when they saw people being tortured. I think what you did was perfectly Ravenclaw. Intelligent to the last."

Luna blushed even more. "I'm pleased you think so."

"We're glad you're back." Harry said warmly.

"I'm certainly happy to be back. It was nice to feast on something other than spiders and flies." Luna deadpanned. Harry wrinkled his nose in disgust.

Ginny nodded in agreement, grinning. "It must have been good after that." She suddenly went serious. "You know, if you ever want to talk about... what you've seen, you know you can come to us, right?."

"Shhh." Ron said, pressing his eye to the small keyhole. "I'm trying to eavesdrop here." He held a long pink string to his ear, that had slipped itself beneath the door, and it had obviously wriggled over to where Dumbledore was talking to his parents.

"Ron!" Hermione protested. "He's going to tell us everything anyhow, why are you doing that?"

"Not necessarily Hermione." Harry interrupted.

"What do you mean?" she asked, looking puzzled.

"Dumbledore doesn't always tell people things. He keeps a lot of secrets which he probably shouldn't."

"I know, but that doesn't give us the right to... Ron, come off it!" she exclaimed when Ron shushed them again.

"It's about me isn't it?" Ginny asked. "They're trying to convince Dumbledore that I shouldn't be allowed in the Order."

"Yup." Ron mumbled, and Ginny flopped herself to the floor in a huff.

"It's just like them isn't it? I'm never going to be able to join in because I'm too young." She harrumphed. "'Too young' is just their way of saying 'youngest', no matter my age. I'm sick of this."

Luna chewed thoughtfully on a length of her hair. "Don't worry Ginevra. I promise we won't let them keep you out. If they won't take you, then they certainly can't take me, and I'm the one who just told them about the Death-Eater camp. They really can't afford to _not_ have me now."

"In fact," Harry muttered, "If they don't let you join, I'll resign in protest. How's that?"

Ginny smiled. "Guess I really shouldn't have anything to worry about then. They sort of need you, don't they." And she stood up, just as Ron pulled quickly away from the keyhole, rewrapped the pink extendable ear and shoved it in his pocket, trying to look as though he had not heard anything.

The door opened to reveal a smiling Dumbledore, and two frowning Weasleys.

Ginny's face split into a grin.


	25. Hermione's Big Find

A/N: I've started doing something I said I would never do. I'm writing the sequel to this one. As far as I'm concerned, sequels in fan fiction always suck, but I really needed to. I had so much fun writing this one that I'm bored now that all I have left to do is editing. Please forgive me!

On another note, what does everyone have against Ginny and Harry being a couple? I've had so many people writing to tell me that it's a horrible combination, but I love it! I don't understand... Anyhow, I promise that I haven't made this story into a romance, nor do I intend to, but I need to know why people are so against the one relationship that I can't leave alone. I mean, if not Ginny, then who else? It's either her or Hermione that are the only ones strong enough to take Harry on anyhow. They're the only ones who will really understand his past enough to see him as a real person. Since Hermione seems to be well and truly taken, there's only one other option. SO DON'T COMPLAIN WHEN THE SEQUEL COMES OUT!!!!!!!

Sorry, I just had to vent there for a second.

Disclaimer: I won't be making any money from the sequel either.

**Chapter Twenty-five –**

**Hermione's Big Find**

Once the formalities were out of the way, and the pack inducted properly into the order, Dumbledore explained to them what had been happening. He was more than a little surprised to hear that most of the information wasn't new to them, and made it clear that their ability to dig up information they shouldn't know was the only reason that he was allowing them into the order. The danger of letting them search out information unsupervised could tear everything that they had worked for to shreds.

After the meeting, the Grangers met them all at the top of the stairs.

"Mum! Dad!" Hermione shrieked, and ran forward to hug her parents.

"Hello, Hermione! How've you been at school? No more problems?" Hermione's father sounded a little edgy as he asked, and no one could blame him. The attack on their house last summer had been stressful, from what Hermione had told them. There had been round the clock surveillance of their house ever since. The Grangers had to be pretty sick of the whole thing.

"It's been crazy, and there was one attack on Hogsmeade, the closest town, but Hogwarts is well protected so they didn't go near the school. Otherwise, I'm all right. Still getting amazing marks, and such."

Mr. Granger nodded and breathed a sigh of relief. Everyone else noted how little Hermione had really told her father. She hadn't even told him that she had been present at the time of the attack, much less that she'd been involved and had saved people's lives.

By the stilted way they were acting, Harry could see that a rift was forming between Hermione and her parents. After five years of half-summers spent with them, and only a few Christmases at home, it was unavoidable that there would be some hesitation. It was a little sad to now see her forced into lying to her own parents. Harry could see that if she were to tell the truth, then her parents would take her out of Hogwarts, and she would run the risk of losing her place in the wizarding world.

Neville tapped Harry, Ginny, Luna and Ron on the shoulder to get their attentions, and they all shifted away from Hermione and the Grangers a bit. "Would you guys like to come and meet my parents? He asked quietly, so that Hermione wouldn't hear.

Harry looked at the rest of the group inquiringly, and they all nodded.

They quietly slipped away to let Hermione reacquaint herself with her family.

000000

Frank and Alice Longbottom sat in plush chairs facing the black windows that Harry had seen earlier from the outside. There was a plate of sandwitches between them, and they looked reasonably healthy from what Harry could see of them.

Both of them were pale and thin, unlike their vibrant plump selves Harry had seen once in a photograph. Their skin hung in certain places that had once been filled with fat, and their hands shook as they reached for more sandwiches.

At least they were eating, and Harry could have sworn that he'd heard a bit of loud conversation from out in the hall.

"MUM? DAD?" Neville had opened the door into the room, and gestured the others to follow him. He obviously had to speak loudly because neither parent's hearing was up to scratch, and it probably would never be. From the way he spoke, it was obvious that he didn't want them to realize he was yelling.

"Neville!" Mrs. Longbottom said, looking startled. "My, how you've grown! You're the very image of Frank at that age! I should be seeing you more often than once a month now!" She scolded.

"MUM, YOU ONLY SAW ME JUST TWO WEEKS AGO." He reminded her gently, without any scorn or laughter.

"Oh, did I?" she asked, looking confused. "I must have forgotten."

"And who are these people?" Mr. Longbottom interrupted. "James! It's been years, hasn't it?" he asked, looking at Harry.

Harry cleared his throat to speak at the same volume as Neville. "I'M NOT JAMES, I'M HIS SON, HARRY. PLEASED TO MEET YOU." He held out his hand politely for him to shake.

Mr. Longbottom started, looking slightly afraid, and pulled away without taking the proffered hand. "That's right!" He said, sounding as though this were something he had just remembered. "James and Lily were killed, weren't they? Of course you couldn't be him."

Harry nodded, feeling as though the introductions had been pretty much ruined by the comment. Mr. Longbottom still looked reluctant to shake his hand, so he lowered his arm, and stuck it uselessly in his pocket.

Neville, obviously used to his parent's forgetfulness ignored the unintended barb and introduced the others in a loud voice.

"Molly Prewett's children?" Mrs. Longbottom asked Ginny and Ron. "I knew her brothers. Good men, Gideon and Fabian were. Too bad about what happened to them."

Harry hadn't known what Molly Weasley's maiden name was. He remembered something from the summer before last. Mad-Eye Moody had showed him a picture of the whole Order of the Phoenix as they were sixteen years before. That had been the picture in which Harry had seen the healthier Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom. The Prewetts had also been in the picture, and Moody had explained that they had been killed by Voldemort.

Molly Weasley had lost her family to Voldemort too.

Looking at the very near to decrepit Longbottoms, then over to the stunned looking Ron and Ginny who had lost uncles they had never known, then on to Luna, whose father was muggleborn and as such, in extreme danger. Each of them was on Voldemort's list of possible victims for a different reason.

All of them were waiting for him to be a murderer.

Harry had to grow up fast.

"They asked me about you, you know."

"Excuse me?" Harry asked, confused, then spoke again, a little louder so they could hear him. "EXCUSE ME?

Mr. Longbottom restated the comment. "They asked me about you."

"I KNOW." Harry said, looking at his feet with shame.

"Then you're the one?" Mrs. Longbottom interrupted Harry's thoughts.

"I AM."

"It's for sure?"

"YES."

"Good."

Harry was confused for a moment, before Mrs. Longbottom explained. "As long as it isn't Neville, then we're happy. We want him safe and out of the line of fire."

Personally, Harry thought so too, and he was impressed that Mrs. Longbottom had recovered to the point where such things had become important.

Neville grinned, and Harry knew that he'd just understood how lucky he truly was.

000000

Remus was good to his word, and early the next morning at six o'clock, he and Harry were sitting in the Study working on warping charms.

"The incantation is 'Cambre'" Remus told him. "I'm going to send a light disarming charm at you, and I want you to aim not for me, but for the charm itself. Ready?"

Harry nodded.

"Expelliarmus." Remus muttered, just as Harry yelled, "Cambre!"

The two spells collided in midair, and the disarming charm shifted to the left, whizzing past Harry's shoulder.

"Very good! Now I'll try a tougher one. Hmm... how about the tickling jinx?" He smirked.

Harry nodded.

"Rictusempra!"

"Cambre!"

Again the spell shifted to the left and went over his shoulder.

"Great! Now try to imagine you want it to go somewhere specific. Send it towards the back of the door. Just concentrate really hard on where it will head. Ready?"

"Right."

"Rictusempra!" said Remus.

"Cambre!" said Harry thinking hard about the back of the door just to his right.

The beam of light thudded against the door and left a light scorch mark on the lower right hand corner.

"You're fast at this. I had forgotten." Remus praised.

"Thanks!" Harry said, flushed with excitement.

"All right, I'll turn and aim at that lampshade there, and I want you to catch the spell as it's moving, and warp it towards the door. It's different when you aren't catching a spell that's aimed at you, but this could save a friend some day. Ready?"

Harry nodded.

Remus shot towards the lampshade and the first two times it was attempted, Harry missed, but he got it on the third shot and didn't miss again after that.

"Good job!" Remus nodded at the grouping of scorch marks on the back of the door. "We'll have to do something about that. I think I can remember a whitewashing charm..."

Harry grinned. "Do it again." He said quickly. "This time, I'm aiming for the handle."

Remus raised his eyebrows. "That small a target is difficult for spell warping. You sure you want to?"

"Why not?"

"All right." Remus muttered. "I've never seen it happen, but it can't hurt to try."

"Go then."

"Rictusempra!"

"Cambre!"

The door chose that very moment to open, and the spell hit Ron in a very embarassing and uncomfortable spot. He let out a grunt of alarm, then collapsed to the floor in a fit of uncontrollable squirming giggles.

Ron could hardly breathe he was laughing so hard. His legs and arms twitched and contorted, and he clutched at his sides trying to supress the sensation. Harry knew that hitting a wizard in that particular spot with any jinx amlified the jinx' effects. Although the incantation was very different, Harry was unpleasantly reminded of Percy's attack back in July.

"Finite Incantatem." Harry said quickly, and he and Remus rushed over to help Ron up.

"Sorry about that mate." Harry said quickly. "You just walked through our target."

"No problem." Ron chuckled, trying to regain his balance. "Glad it wasn't something too horrible. No bat-bogeys or anything."

Harry laughed. "That one's a Ginny classic. No one else is allowed to use it."

Ron gave Harry a funny look.

"What?"

"Nothing." Ron said quickly.

"No, I mean what did you need us for?"

"Oh, that. Mum's got us all cleaning out the attic. She wants it done as quickly as possible. She knows you're busy, but she wanted to ask if you can come help whenever you finish?"

"All right. We're just about done here. I'll head up there in fifteen minutes."

Ron nodded.

"Ron?" Harry caught him just as he was about to close the door.

"Hmm?"

"Next time knock. Not that I care that you know what's going on, but the back of the door makes a very good target, and I wouldn't want you to get hurt."

"Right." Ron said sheepishly. "We'll have to find some sort of charm to protect the...erm... you know... from attack. It's a vulnerable spot mate."

Harry laughed. "I'll try and look something up for the DA."

Ron nodded with a dark red complexion, and left the room.

"Try again?" Harry asked once Ron was gone.

It was quickly proved that not only did Harry Potter learn things quickly, he also had the best aim out of any wizard Remus knew.

000000

Harry had only just put a foot on the stairs that led to the attic the very moment that he heard Hermione scream loudly. He raced up the steps, and slammed himself through the door.

"What!" He panted. "What happened?"

"Look what I've found! Oh you'll never believe... I've been looking everywhere! Just what was it doing here I wonder?!"

The others were gathered together peering over her shoulder at the thing in her lap.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief when he realized that what she held was a book.

_Leave it to Hermione to scream when she finds a good book._ He thought to himself.

"What is it?" he asked.

She carefully folded the aged brown leather-bound book closed, and held it up for him to try to make out the illegible black script on the front.

"Sorry." Harry said squinting, adjusting his glasses and moving closer. "I can't quite make it out."

"This is Ravenclaw's book!" she nearly shrieked brandishing the book like a shield in front of her face.

Harry looked closer at the cover, and realized it said _The Four Founders of Hogwarts by Rowena Ravenclaw_. The letters were faded and the cover slightly abused over the years, but it was in remarkably fine condition for such an old text.

The gold edges of the pages were crisp and no nicks were visible. The ink had dried the first pages to each other, but with light careful encouragement, they separated to reveal the feminine looking decorated cursive.

_Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor: The First Seven Years_

"Ooooh!" Hermione squealed. "I'm going to have to show this to Dumbledore! And I'll take it to Madam Pince! Oh, and professor Flitwick! Maybe with him being the head of Ravenclaw house, he would know what to do about this!" She made a concerted effort to flip to the next page. This one was considerably more stuck together, and Hermione huffed in frustration.

"Hermione! Calm down!" Ron touched her shoulder lightly. "You're going to wreck it if you try to tear those pages apart."

She flipped the book closed reluctantly. "Maybe I should just take it to Dumbledore. See if he can get it open."

"Hermione, may I see that?" Harry asked.

"Sure." She handed it carefully to him with two hands, and he took it in much the same manner.

Harry opened to the first page easily.

_Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor: The First Seven Years_

He carefully ran his hand along the gold foil on the page edges, wondering if there might be some sort of charm holding them closed.

To his surprise, as he stroked the edges, the seal holding the ink stuck together was broken, and the next page lifted away.

"I think I got it." He told Hermione uselessly, since she was already nearly hyperventillating trying to see what the next page said.

"Here." He said, handing it to her. "Just stroke the gold, and it unsticks."

"Thanks!" She said reverently.

They all waited with baited breath while she read the opening few paragraphs. She went to turn the page, reaching over and stroking the gold leaf lightly.

Nothing happened.

She tried again.

"Um, maybe I'm just doing it wrong?" she asked Harry, and handed the book to him.

He stroked the gold, and the next page unstuck. "I'm not sure there is a wrong way. It seems to work just fine." He handed her back the book.

As an experiment, she stroked the gold again.

Still, the next page did not turn.

"Here, you try." She handed it to Ron.

He touched the gold, and ran his fingers down the edge. The third page turned easily. He shrugged and handed it back.

Still, the pages would not turn for Hermione.

Ron began to laugh. "Finally, we've found a book that doesn't like Hermione back!"

"It's not funny Ron!" she huffed, and handed it to Ginny to try.

The fourth page turned for Ginny.

The fifth page turned for Neville.

Neville didn't bother handing it back to Hermione, but passed it directly to Luna. Luna took the book wordlessly, but didn't bother to try. "Oh, it won't work for me either."

"But why?" Hermione pressed her lips together in a thin frustrated line. "Give it a try anyway. I'm going to figure this out if it kills me."

Luna ran her finger across the gold. As she had predicted, nothing happened.

"How did you know?" Hermione asked. "What did you do differently than them?"

"Oh, I didn't do anything differently. It's just that I have the same history you do. My grandparents were all muggles. My parents, even though they were both magical, were muggleborn. I have a feeling that the book wants to make sure it's not giving away any secrets to muggles or to their children."

"A book that discriminates against muggleborns? Are you crazy? I thought Ravenclaw was supposed to be open minded! Why would she do something like this? That sounds more like something Slytherin would do!" She sat down in the dust with a huff of displeasure.

Ron took the book back and examined it. Harry looked over his shoulder. Ron grimaced, and pulled his hand away from the spine in disgust. It was covered in a fine layer of brown leather speckles. They both noticed what it meant at the same time, and looked quickly at each other, then at Hermione who was contemplating the floor.

Harry watched Ron analyze the speckles on his hand. "Um Hermione, when a leather covered book is first opened, you have to crack the spine right?" He looked intently at the spine, which before had been flawless, and was now missing tiny chunks of its wax coating.

She nodded, still not looking at him.

"And old leather books used to be varnished with wax once they were finished, to preserve the leather?"

Again, she nodded. "They stopped doing that about nine-hundred years ago. Oil works much more effectively. The wax would usually crack away after about fifty years." She looked up at Ron's hand. It only took her a second before she gasped in amazement.

"It's never been opened!" She shrieked.

Ron and Harry nodded together. Ginny, Luna and Neville gasped.

"You mean, like brand new? Never been read?" Neville asked in amazement.

Ron nodded. "Well, no one could have read it since after the leather dried out and the wax hardened, which has to be at least since Ravenclaw died. The spine is not nearly broken enough for it to have even been used much in her lifetime."

"That muggleborn thing doesn't make sense either." Harry interrupted. "Why would it open for me if my mother was muggleborn? It couldn't possibly be a discriminatory measure. From what we know of Ravenclaw, she wasn't like that."

Hermione nodded. "If I could read it, then it might say something about the charm holding it closed."

"Right." Ron said, closing the book, and handing it to her.

Hermione opened the cover, and turned to the first page again. Once more, the second page would not turn over for her. She looked as though the only thing stopping her from tossing the book out the dusty attic window was the thought that the book was so incredibly valuable.

Harry quickly took the book from her and stroked the first two pages open. "Just read for now. We'll clean, and you can tell us if you find something interesting or if you need the page turned."

Hermione nodded, looking very grateful, and the others distributed themselves across the dusty attic, carefully packing dark magical artifacts away into large cloth sacks.

After about an hour of cleaning, and listening to Hermione say odd things like; "Did you know that Helga Hufflepuff had fourteen children?" and "Would you believe it if I told you that Salazar Slytherin killed his own first wife when she told him she was barren? I can't believe people back then were so barbaric."

To which Ron replied. "Not everyone was that barbaric back then, just Slytherin."

"Oh wow!" She gasped in disbelief just when she seemed to be reaching the end of the fourth chapter. –Everyone knew where she was in the book, because she needed them to turn the pages for her each time.

"What is it?" Harry asked, wiping an unnamed and particularily disgusting slimy brown substance off his palm and on to the dusty windowsill.

"Um.. did you know that both Slytherin and Gryffindor killed each other?"

"What?!" Harry asked her in disbelief. "How is that possible?"

"Well, Rowena doesn't know the details, because she was at the school at the time, but apparently Slytherin had amassed a small army of wizards, and attacked Gryffindor's home castle. Gryffindor had only just left the school to fight Slytherin's army, and his men weren't properly prepared. The men were killed, and the castle burnt to ashes."

"Well, what happened to Gryffindor?" Harry asked curiously.

"He and Slytherin had a one on one duel during the battle, and Gryffindor was killed. Slytherin was badly injured though, and after he returned to his home, he died from blood-loss."

"Didn't they try any blood replenishing potions?" Neville asked.

Luna scoffed. "Blood replenishing potions were invented in the sixteenth century, Neville. That was much later than the founders' time."

Neville shrugged. "Oh."

"Ugh!" Hermione exclaimed, her mouth flattening out into a disgusted scowl.

"What?" Ron asked, trying to read over her shoulder.

"It says here, 'Godric Gryffindor's daughter and his two young sons watched horrified from the safety of the forbidden forest while Slytherin's army raised their father's decapitated head onto a pole overlooking the gates of their burning home.' That's horrible! Those poor children!" She stared sadly at the book for another moment, before shutting it. "Rowena Ravenclaw certainly didn't skimp on the details. I don't think I really want to read more of this right now."

"Tell you what." Said Harry flatly. "I think reading that sort of material could be rather uplifting for me. Do you think I could read it next?"

"Sure. Sirius would have probably given it to either you or Remus anyhow if he'd known that it was here." She handed the book to him carefully, then scrunched up her nose at the brown speckles on her palm. "You might want to get madam Pince to look at the condition of the leather before you do. She knows a number of useful restoration spells for older books. We wouldn't want the spine to completely crumble away."

"All right," Harry said, walking towards the door, "I'll put it into my trunk, and first thing I'll do when we're back at Hogwarts is take it to her."


	26. Christmas Eve

A/N: I'm so pleased that people were willing to indulge my rant about 'people who hate Harry/Ginny fics', and I promise it won't happen again. I'd just like to take this moment to reiterate the fact that this will not be a romance story, nor will my sequel. However, letting me know when I've more than reached my limit for 'level of romance' in a given chapter has been much appreciated. Thanks!

I-Can't-Believe-I-Forgot-Gryffindor Disclaimer: Those not worthy of commendation will never recieve reward. I am, unfortunately, just such a person, especially since I forgot the noble house of Gryffindor when writing my previous Disclaimers.

**Chapter Twenty-six –**

**Christmas Eve**

Molly's decision to do an early Christmas for Remus's sake had met well with most of the people in Grimmauld Place. The Grangers had promised to spend Christmas Eve and the morning after with Mrs. Granger's brother. Hermione was invited to go with them to see her uncle, and was pleased that she wouldn't be missing out on the festivities at Grimmauld place.

She was a little sorry that she would have to miss out on 'hide and seek' for this month, but promised that she would work on convincing her parents that it was too dangerous for her to spend the night at her uncle's house. Otherwise she would be able to join in again next month.

Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Granger spent the entire morning preparing food for the feast. Mrs. Granger was so absolutley enthralled with the simplicity of the thing when one could use magic to speed it along that she wouldn't let anyone else help.

"Isn't it amazing? She can make gravy come out of the end of her wand!" Mrs.Granger told her husband that morning while they carefully set the long table for eighteen. "I'm eagerly anticipating clean up afterwards. Molly says she can make the dishes wash themselves! Oh, I can't wait until Hermione is of age! She'll be able to do so many interesting things!"

Harry had offered to help them after his lesson with Remus, but Mrs. Weasley insisted that everything had already been done, so now he was just sitting at the end of the table, perusing the front page of the Daily Prophet.

"Mrs. Weasley..." he began tentatively, putting down his paper. He hadn't really been reading it anyway. "Is... er... Is Percy going to be here?"

She nodded with excitement. "Of course! He should be here any minute. He's so eager to see you again."

"Is he?" he asked. "I sort of thought he might be afraid of me."

"Nonsense!" she said, plunking a pound of butter on the table. "He's right happy to be coming over, and he's heard that you'll be here. He wants to thank you, you know."

"Oh." Harry said stupidly. "Is he feeling all right?"

Molly looked a little sad for a second. "He has slow moments every now and then."

Harry was thinking about the Longbottoms. Was Percy like them? Completely lucid one second, then horribly confused the next? He hadn't been that way when Harry had seen him in St. Mungos, but then he'd seemed quite disoriented at the time anyhow.

He was not really looking forward to seeing Percy, and he promised himself that he would avoid him as much as possible.

"Is he back at work?"

She nodded. "He was given medical leave for a few months, but he's back on part time. He's found it difficult to keep evrything quiet, apparently. Everywhere he goes, people are asking him details, so he's made up a nice story to tell them all. He told me just last week that he's almost started to believe himself! Isn't that funny?"

Harry didn't think so, but he nodded.

"Oh! I forgot the bread!" Mrs. Weasley turned back to the oven, and pulled out a nicely browned loaf. "Bit crustier than I'd intended, but it'll be nice to have some fresh white out for the meal." She plopped that on the long table as well, and bustled out of the room.

Fifteen minutes later, people began to arrive. Percy and Mister Weasley were a part of the group, and now that Harry had a chance to see him up close, Percy looked quite healthy and talkative. He embraced Harry heartily, and thanked him, as Mrs. Weasley had forewarned, then moved off to sit atone end of the long table. Harry gave a sigh of relief, but stayed as far down the end of the table away from him for the meal.

Luckily enough, Ron and the rest of the pack decided to sit near to him, including Remus, and the conversations flitted easily between them, keeping them all distracted. Mrs. and Mr. Longbottom sat just on the other side of Neville, but in order for them to hear anything they would need to yell, so they were able to keep their dinner chat nearly completely private.

Halfway through the meal, Harry noticed that Snape was there, sitting opposite Percy at the other end of the table. He wondered briefly why Snape wasn't spending time with his own family, then he realized that Snape likely didn't _have _any other family. He pointed him out to everyone else in a whisper, and most of them shrugged, except for Ron, who scowled at the sight.

"I hope he doesn't stay the evenings anymore after this." He grumbled. "I hate running into him in the hallway upstairs. He's always telling me off. Mum says that he's 'got to hold up his front, or people will think he's gone soft.'"

"He still won't look at me." Harry mumbled. "Mind you, I haven't really been trying to catch his attention, but it's almost like he's afraid I'm going to break into his mind again."

"Again?" Remus interrupted. "You've done it before? I thought you looked into his pensieve."

"I did. That was a different time." Harry ended up telling the story of his recent foray into Snape's mind, which, he remembered to mention, wasn't exactly a unique incident, since it had happened at the beginning of the school year too.

Harry could tell that Remus was finding it difficult not to laugh. He'd never really liked Snape, but it wasn't something he would publicize. "I reckon your mind skills are close to outstripping his. He can't have enjoyed that thought."

"What?" Harry asked, feeling both confused and proud. "You mean I'm better at occlumency than he is?"

Remus thought about it for a moment while he chewed Molly's delicious stuffing. "Probably not better, but just different. You've shown yourself to have something of a natural talent. Perhaps it's just not the same as the ability he has."

Harry didn't really understand how Occlumency and Legilimency could be different for different people, but he nodded. "Or he might not have been prepared to have to defend himself against me at the time. I wasn't exactly all that good at the subject in those lessons he was giving me."

All of the pack was looking down the end of the table at the same time, and Snape looked up at them.

They all turned away quickly, but it was obvious that Snape knew they had been talking about him. He sneered and glared at each one of them in turn. Each of them, except Harry of course.

Harry tried to let his mind wander after that, and attempted to listen in on some of the other conversations that flitted around the table.

"I'm going to be taking the year off from Romania, to come and work at the Welsh Wizarding History Museum!" Charlie announced gleefully to his parents.

"They need a curator for the dragon exhibits, and my name came up as being quite knowledgeable on the subject."

"That's wonderful Charlie! Will you be home much then?"

"I can be nearby for awhile and commute to Wales every day."

Harry nearly scoffed. Charlie would probably be apparating to work. It wouldn't exactly be a hard 'commute' for him.

0 0 0 0 0

Christmas morning, or rather the morning of the twenty-third which was Mrs. Weasley's version of Christmas morning, Harry woke at the behest of Ron and Neville to find a large pile of gifts at the foot of his bed.

"C'mon Harry! Presents!" Neville yelled at him, tearing into the pile at the foot of his own bed. "Ron! What were you thinking!?" He giggled, holding up a rubber toad that squeaked when he squeezed it and a purple puppy chew rope.

Harry laughed at the look on Neville's face. He had the expression that said that very deep down he appreciated the gift, but didn't want to admit it.

"I thought Wrinkles might want a few toys." Ron admitted, clutching at his stomach to hold in the laughter.

Harry was curious about his own gift from Ron now, so he tore into a lumpy package wrapped in Tuesday's edition of the daily prophet.

"Ron this is great!" Harry chuckled. Inside the wrapper was a small ceramic figurine of a tall black haired man and a lion. The man was obviously wearing circus attire and held a long whip, which he brandished fiercely, cracking it into the air. As Harry watched, the man slowly approached the lion, whispering silently to the creature, and holding his hand out as if to stop the creature lunging at him. The trainer moved to stand right in front of his pet, and patted the lion's mane in comfort as he slowly lowered his head down to place it daringly inside the lion's open mouth.

The man pulled back with a grand smile, and took a bow, and all three boys applauded the little figurine's circus act.

"Think of the money you could make!" Neville laughed, pointing to the lion trainer, who was obviously expecting a standing ovation, as he was still bowing.

"I don't think the lion is the one that makes all of the money Neville." Harry corrected him ruefully.

They all received Weasley jumpers, and Ron donned his immediately, since it was bright orange and had a roughly attempted Chudley Cannons emblem on the front. It looked horrible, but no one could convince Ron of this. In fact it sometimes seemed that Ron wanted to look as ludicrous as possible just to disgust Hermione. Every time she saw him that day, she winced, and had to turn away. Harry had the distinct impression that Ron knew exactly what he was doing.

0 0 0 0 0

"Goodbye Ron, Ginny." It was the afternoon of the twenty-fourth, and Mrs. Weasley kissed her children goodbye as she stood in the doorway. "See that you behave yourselves for Mr. Lupin." She added fiercely. She gave Remus, who was standing back in the kitchen doorway, a hard look, and it went without saying that he would be dead in the morning if she heard that he had done anything to harm her children.

"We will, mum." Ron assured her, practically pushing her out of the door behind a furiously scowling Mr. Weasley.

Neither one of them had looked at all happy when they heard of Ron and Ginny's intentions to stay behind with Remus on the night of the full moon. It had been taken for granted by the rest of the Order that Remus was now to be given the run of the house every full moon, unless he was somehow able to procure the Wolfsbane potion, which apparently hadn't happened since September. He'd secretly slipped off to Hogwarts last month with no one being the wiser, but he was as always, strapped for cash again, so the wolfsbane was unavailable.

Mrs. Weasley had thrown something of a fit when she learned of her children's intentions to share the house with a full-grown werewolf for the night.

Hermione had been over at her uncle's house for the day, celebrating Christmas, and to her relief her parents had given her permission to come back for the night. She'd used the excuse that her younger cousins were asking her questions they probably shouldn't, and they'd let her come. Hermione was more than anxious to return and join the pack, but she'd had to promise that she would return the next morning for more presents.

Ron and Harry had quite a few doubts about just how much Hermione had told her parents about the evenings planned activites. If she had revealed her true intentions, Mr. and Mrs. Granger might have thrown just as much of a fit as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were as they were being ushered out the door.

The door was finally shut, and the hallway was silent.

"So, what shall we do for now?" Luna asked cheerily, as if she were awaiting a fine day at the fair.

"Well, we haven't eaten dinner yet..." said Harry, although he knew that it was still reasonably early for the mealtime.

"What about a Chess tourney?" Ron asked, and Ginny rolled her eyes.

"I don't care what we do, as long as it keeps me occupied." Remus said, looking grim. "The less I think about this evening the better."

"All right." Harry said. "Let's go into the kitchen and have some games then."

"Right, I'll get the chessboard, and my exploding snap packs." Ron rushed upstairs, and everyone else filed into the kitchen.

They found themselves doing much more talking than playing. Hermione, Ginny and Luna sat comfortably on one side of the table messing about with Crookshanks, who was chasing a shoelace on the floor. Ron, Harry, Remus and Neville sat on the other side, methodically building an exploding snap card castle.

Remus was acting quite young and childish to their surprise, and even cheered raucously when the card castle blew up for the eighth time. Harry was surprised by how healthy he looked, and how much energy he seemed to exhude. So far, any time that Harry had seen him the night before a full moon, he'd always looked a mess. Harry hoped that he and his friends might take some of the credit for their new packmate's good health.

Before they knew it, it was nearing ten-o'clock when the moon was supposed to rise, and they hadn't even eaten a bite of dinner. None of them had even thought about the possibility of food.

"Good luck." Said Harry to Remus just before he changed into Greymane.

Remus only had a minute or so to ponder the imminent transformation, before he began gasping, and his body stretched down into that of the werewolf.

The animal games that evening were far more elaborate than the simple 'Hide-and-seek' of their first outing. Of course, for Stickyfoot's sake they played a few rounds, as it was now her favourite game.

They'd had plenty of time beforehand to plan out their quests, and much to Greymane and Sabertooth's immense pleasure, Luna had included a rather ripping game of 'find the catnip'. The gecko, the owl, or the dogs would hide a small pouch of sweet smelling bliss somewhere in the house, then the cats would have to fight each other to see who could reach it first.

It all went to shambles, however when they realized that Crookshanks had discovered their tenth hiding spot, and had torn into the pouch with enthusiasm, and spread the contents liberally about the second floor.

_It's mine. I can do with it what I want. _He had told Sabertooth and Greymane, hissing, when they growled at him angrily. They both leapt back in surprise when they heard him speak their dialect. He continued when he saw that they had apparently understood him._ It was my Christmas present. Hermione borrowed it from me, then lent it to Luna last night, and I wanted it back. I do so enjoy my catnip._ He purred, rolling over onto his back, and neither of the Jungle cats had the heart to get too angry with him after that.

Besides which, they could still smell the herb all over the second floor, and it was quite heavenly.

When Eyespy caught sight of the apparent converation between the three cats, she went nearly berserk, and flapped excitedly out the window. She returned no less than twenty minutes later with both Hedwig and Pigwidgeon close on her tail.

Apparently the owls could all talk to each other too, if the excited hooting and flapping was anything to go by, and Greymane wondered what Hermione was learning about his faithful pet. He made a mental note to ask her about their conversations afterward.

In the meantime, they had Moony to consider.

Eyespy had prepared an elaborate game of fetch, which included her and the other owls dropping water bombs and various heavy objects including Wrinkles' new squeaky toad from the fourth floor landing, and watching with unsurpressed glee as the three canines ran yelping after them.

Wrinkles had a tendency to run easily down the top three steps, then just let the momentum carry him down all three flights of stairs. Even after getting a faceful of water on the first landing, he continued to roll down the last flight -barking at nothing- and slammed excitedly face-first into the opposite wall of the entrance hall. He didn't look hurt, and shook it off happily with his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.

Moony got very competitive in the end, and went quickly past the other two, batting them aside with his paws, once accidentally sending Sidetrack flying over the side banister of the stairway.

Sidetrack landed on his rear end on the hardwood floor of the entrace hall, and let out a pained yelp, tucking his red and white tail between his legs, and whining in pain.

Moony had apologized profusely to Sidetrack's annoyance, by licking the fox' ears, showering slobber all over his head. He was obviously concered at what Mrs. Weasley would say if she found out what he had done. Sidetrack shuffled forwards and shook himself off, looking reasonably unharmed and quite disgusted with Moony's extra attention. He butted the wolf in the leg with his head to tell him to stop worrying.

The games might have continued after this, except that Moony's ears suddenly flattened to the side of his head, and he let out a fierce growl.

No one could figure out what had set him off. Werewolves only reacted this way to a human presence didn't they?

Sidetrack and Wrinkles laid their ears back too, and began barking and yipping at the front door, and everyone else knew immediately that _this was no joke._ Someone had decided to come home to Grimmauld place. Someone stupid, and incredibly forgetful.

At three o'clock in the morning?

The handle began to turn, and Greymane leapt towards the snarling werewolf. He felt a slash of angry claws across his chest, and roared in pain. He felt more than saw Sabertooth enter the fray from the side, and together, they were able to push Moony back beyond the kitchen door.

"Oy! What's all this then?"Around all the snarling and yipping and biting and hooting, Greymane heard a distinctive human voice back in the entranceway. "Oooch! Gerroff cat! Ruddy birds! What is this place, A bloody zoo?!"

The sounds of the fight in the kitchen were either ignored, or they were inaudible to the newcomer, and Greymane desperately pressed Moony to the floor, holding him tight, and feeling the back claws scrabbling a his legs. Sabertooth moved quickly to help, and her front paws joined Greymane's on the squirming wolf's heaving chest.

Moony growled and snapped his teeth in total abandonment of his senses, and tossed both Greymane and Sabertooth aside like discarded rags. Sabertooth hit the wall hard and lay still on the floor. Greymane skidded to a halt, just at the top of the basement steps. Moony made for the doorway to the hall, exploding into the entranceway and Greymane raced after him, pouncing on the werewolf's back, rolling them both up against the base of the first flight of stairs.

For a moment, Moony was stunned below him, so Greymane turned to the door, and roared angrily at the shocked form of Mundungus Fletcher.

He had arrived swaying drunkenly, and had been yelling loudly at the clinging form of Crookshanks who had attached himself to a trouser leg with his sharp claws. Mundungus' arms were waving madly, trying to bat away the three owls circling and pecking at his head. Wrinkles had the other trouser leg in his teeth, and was growling and snorting as he pulled the distracted man back towards the door. Sidetrack was yipping angrily, and biting at the booted feet, making the man dance jerkily.

When Moony and Greymane rolled into the hall fighting each other tooth and nail, Mundungus physically leapt in the air at the sight. He stared for a moment with mounting panic in his eyes, watching with total bewilderment until Sabertooth also came limping towards him out of the shadows, growling threateningly.

Suddenly the other animals attacking his ankles and flapping in his face became insignificant. The animals ceased their attack once they noticed Mundungus beginning to understand, and knowing that their work was complete.

Fletcher grabbed drunkenly at the doorhandle behind him, just as the recovering Moony brushed Greymane violently aside, and was getting to his feet. He stood up on his hind legs, looking stunningly like the Egyptian god Anubis, and let out a horrible scream, throwing himself at the man who stood in the entrance hall. Mundungus shrieked, scurrying backwards and he slammed the door shut on his way out, just barely escaping the frenzied wolf's claws and teeth, and scuttled out into the night, yelling obscenities at the thumping door as he went.

Moony slammed his body against the panelled black door, and howled loudly. He threw himself bodily at the door once more, scrabbling desperately at it with his extended claws, before he collapsed, quivering, at its base.

Sabertooth and Greymane winced as they limped forward to placate the terrified werewolf. Sidtrack yipped loudly at the door, and even Stickyfoot from her spot on the ceiling could understand the angry fox.

_AND STAY OUT!!!_


	27. Fawkes

A/N: Thank you for all of the great reviews. I love hearing what people think, and if you find any mistakes or problems don't hesitate to let me know. That's the only way I'll improve!

Disclaimer: Pirates, ye be warned.

**Chapter Twenty-seven –**

**Fawkes**

The pack's evening games had to be abandoned in favour of nursing each other's bruises or painfully shredded skin.

Moony lay despondent and weak on the small circular carpet near the desk in the study, where they had all come to groom themselves out of their misery. Sidetrack was busy licking the non-responsive werewolf's bloodied neck, and Greymane worried about the depth of some of the cuts. He had remembered slashing his claws at the wolf as he tried to push his friend back into the kitchen. At the time, he hadn't been thinking about Moony's comfort. The lion seemed to have just taken control of him, and protected Mundungus the way he was built to. Now he felt awfully guilty.

Wrinkles had curled up into the werewolf's side, and was contentedly snoring in Moony's ear, one paw tucked carefully around his squeaky toad.

_Next time we put a sign on the door._ Greymane grumbled, absentmindedly licking Sabertooth's injured shoulder, which was matted with drying blood. _Werewolf on the loose! Do not enter!_

_No. It sounds too much like the way the French people label werewolves. _Sabertooth commented. _They make people like Moony put up a sign saying, 'ici le maison d'un loup-garou.' I think it's just rude to generalize that way._

_I didn't mean it that way. _Harry felt chastised. _Are you all right? _He asked.

_My cheek hurts. I'm going to have a black eye in the morning. I think the most painful part though is the scratches on my paws, I really can't put my feet down._

_He's got sharp claws doesn't he? _Greymane commented, looking at his own slashed chest and arms, then over to Moony's decrepit-looking form.

Sabertooth also looked at the bloody mass on the lion's chest, and bent her head to lick at it. It stung, but for some reason, Greymane was willing to endure the attention. It felt very natural to want the blood gone from the wound. Also, on the occasion that she missed the cut with her leathery tongue, the massaging quality of the motion was very pleasant. A small voice in the back of his mind told him that there might be another reason for his pleasure, but he dismissed it. That was a human reason, so it had no true bearing on the here and now.

_Stupid Mundungus. Didn't he know not to come here tonight? _Greymane mused, trying to take his mind off the tiger licking his wounds.

_I could have acted as sentry. _Crookshanks meowed, walking in the door. _Next time, let me know, and I will do so._

Sabertooth purred. _That's very noble of you. Are you sure you have a good way of distracting a person?_

Crookshanks gave a very good impression of a haughty shrug. _Male cats are well known for their vocal habits at night. I couldn't get someone to leave, but I could make it very clear that they were not welcome. I am intelligent enough to know when someone should not be there. Have no fear, I will protect this pack. It is my duty._

It had become obvious that Crookshanks not only thought himself another part of their group, he also made it quite clear that from now on, he was to be considered the alpha male.

Greymane and Sabertooth purred their laughter at their new packmate.

_What?_ Crookshanks hissed haughtily, his fur sticking up in a threatening mohawk down his back. _You think me incapable? I have far more experience as a cat than either of you do. Do not mock me, or you may suffer my impressionable wrath._

They didn't dare make another sound. Despite his size, Crookshanks didn't look like a cat to be trifled with. They also remembered the shredded material of Mundungus Fletcher's trousers all too clearly.

Greymane observed the scene of the pack cautiously. The owls seemed to be conversing quietly in the corner, and Stickyfoot had come to rest on the top of the desk. She was apparently taking part in a wild little gecko experiment of her own, because she had tipped over a bottle of ink, and was methodically tracking the wet black footprints across the top of a blank piece of parchment, making sure to include whippy tail marks.

A loud cracking sound and a horrible groan of pain pulled him back over the sight of Remus, who was now very human, and rolling onto his back to stare vacantly at the bottom of the desk.

The full moon must have gone below the horizon.

The rest of the pack changed back into their bruised and bleeding human forms too, and went immediately to see to their broken friend. Harry felt awful. Most of the gashes Remus now bore across his chest, face and arms, Harry had remembered putting there. It was because of him that his tutor now had to suffer so much pain.

"Remus, you need to get into a bed." Ginny said, taking the man's hand carefully in her own lacerated palms. "You need to get up. Can you do that?" Remus winced and attempted to pull his hand out of hers. Ginny then noticed that three of Remus' fingernails on that hand were torn and bleeding and she held his hand even more carefully. Harry cringed at the sight, and reflexively checked his own chipped and bruised nails.

Remus mumbled that yes he could stand, and Harry and Ron moved forward to help prop him up from behind, cautious of the many gashes on his arms and sides.

"I'm sorry." Remus said to Harry, looking forlornly at the boy's torn robes and the mangled skin on his half-bared chest.

"Don't think on it Moony, it's just a few scratches. Besides," he said grinning for his tutor's sake, "I think I'm still feeling a bit woozy from that catnip. I don't feel them at all."

Remus chuckled, and Harry felt a little better about everything.

"We're going to fly out and get some help." Hermione called. "I'll get Dumbledore. I'll also pay a little visit to our _friend_ Mundungus Fletcher while I'm at it. Hedwig and Pig have told me they'll lead the way."

"All right. We'll take care of things here, and see you later." Harry called, supporting Remus towards the door, and out into his bedroom.

Hermione smiled wryly, and changed herself into Eyespy. She and the other two owls fluttered out the window into the darkened early morning haze.

Ron chuckled once Hermione had gone. "She'll be more effective than sending a howler."

Remus laughed and winced. "Then I pity the poor sod."

0 0 0 0 0

Sure enough, Hermione came through in blazing colours. Dumbledore and Fawkes paid a visit to Grimmauld place only half-an-hour after Eyespy had gone.

Fawkes the phoenix flew immediately over to Remus, who was fast asleep, and looking greener than Harry had ever seen him. They'd done what they could to bind his wounds, but the blood still seeped out through the bandages. Fawkes lowered his head to each one as they were slowly removed by Harry, and he cried a few healing tears onto the sleeping man's wounds. The bruises were still prominent, but at least the horrible scratches were gone, and the bruising would fade with time.

Fawkes moved on to the rest of the pack in the next room, crying tears into their cuts, and singing clear notes of phoenix song to heal their heavy hearts. He was able to heal Harry's chest wound quite well, with hardly any trace of scarring. It made Harry wonder how bad the cut on his forehead had been when he was a baby to leave such a scar. He also had to wonder if Fawkes had cried over him as a child to see if he could mend the curse scar.

Harry gave Fawkes an extra pat of thanks and the bird trilled and flew back over to Dumbledore's shoulder. Harry subconsciously fingered the wand in his pocket. The core was one of Fawkes' feathers, and ironically its only brother wand belonged to Voldemort. No one in the room other than Dumbledore knew this, and Harry really didn't feel that they needed to. Sirius had known, but as far as Harry knew, he'd never told anyone.

Dumbledore jokingly warned them to keep quiet to Mr.and Mrs. Weasley if they truly valued Remus' life. Harry personally didn't think it much of a joke, but he laughed along with his headmaster. Apparently Dumbledore had informed the Weasleys that everyone was too exhausted after the evening's games that they just didn't want any visitors.

They showed him Ravenclaw's book, and Dumbledore's eyes twinkled excitedly at their unique find. They explained to him that only some people could open it, and he seemed just as confused as everyone else in this respect.

The book opened for him, but he decided not to read it, saying the spine needed to be properly oiled, so that the book wouldn't fall apart. He handed it back, telling them to take it to Madam Pince. Ron explained that they had already planned to do so, and when she had finished making the book readable, they would bring it to him to peruse. Harry reluctantly agreed, even though he had asked to be the first to read it.

Dumbledore then left, promising that he would be back later that afternoon to see how things were progressing.

Only ten minutes after Dumbledore and Fawkes' departure, the doorbell rang, and Harry rushed down the stairs to answer it.

A very nervous-looking Mundungus Fletcher stood on the front stoop, and he flinched heavily when the door opened, looking frantically over Harry's shoulder as if a werewolf might still be hiding there. He had terribly mussed ginger hair and dark circles under his eyes. He hadn't yet changed his trousers, and the slashed material showed a few bloody scratches. He also had a few noticeable scratches and peck marks on his face from the three owls last night.

"Are all them animals gorn?" He asked nervously, looking over Harry's shoulder again. "Last night, I come in 'ere, and next I know, I'm being attacked by a ruddy zoo. I saw our Mr. Lupin and all in the middle, and I realized I'd been a dunderhead and forgot all about the moon and such. I've come to apologize. Is 'e in?"

"He's here." Said Harry insolently. "He's not happy with you right now, and neither am I."

"Yeah. Your friend told me."

"You mean Hermione?"

"She banged into me apartment at some unholy hour this mornin' and started shakin' me awake. She wos screamin' all about how I ought to be ashamed to have forgotten about Mr. Lupin, and that he was hurt and it was all my fault. She's got a right set of pipes, that one. Don't know how she bloody found me this morning either."

"So you came back here to apologize because Hermione told you to?"

"She told me I 'ad to give it a go, or she'd pickle my toes. I thought she coulda' done it too." Mundungus nodded, shuddering at the thought.

Harry was gradually getting angrier the more he heard the man speak. He had no choice but to let him into the hall, but the moment the door was shut Harry rounded on him.

"You don't seem to realize the damage you've caused!" He yelled. "Remus was mortified! The only reason you're safe right now is because of us! From now on, think hard about your actions, and keep your eye on the full moon! What you did last night was selfish and stupid!"

Mundungus winced at Harry's volume, and clutched at his head. "Yes, I know. I've already had the lecture from miss Granger, and at twice the volume come to that. Could you possibly keep it down? I've got a bit of a headache."

"I'll give you a headache!" Ginny yelled from the top of the stairs. She was no longer limping, but her eye was slowly turning a bright shade of plum. She looked quite a bit like her mother as she berated the man and tromped down the steps. "Next time knock!" She said, brandishing a fist. "I nearly bit you myself last night! And trust me when I say it would have been much worse than if we'd let Moony get to you!"

Mundungus' jaw dropped, and he pointed shakily to the girl shaking her fist at him. "Bless my boots! You were the tiger!" He backed away in fear.

"That's right, and I suggest that you don't mention it to anyone else, or you can expect me to forget that you're on our side the next time I become one."

At that moment, three owls fluttered down the flight of stairs, and Hermione landed on human feet, glaring at Mundungus.

"What?!" Yelled Mundungus, obviously terrified, backing up against the door like a cornered rat. "Is they both people too?" He asked, pointing to the two glaring owls sitting on the banister.

Hermione put her hands on her hips, looking quite like professor McGonagall. "No, but they've asked me to tell you that they think what hair you still have tastes a bit like worms, and not much prompting would set them on it again."

"Hello, Mundungus." Luna called serenely from the top of the first flight of stairs, interrupting the lecture. "Remus is awake, and feeling better. He'd like to see everyone."

The three of them scrambled up the stairs, paying no attention to Mundungus, who ambled nervously behind, muttering under his breath.

They walked into the darkened room to see Remus sitting up in bed, looking wan. "Hello Dung." He said quietly. "You all right?"

"Beggin' your pardon Remus, I wos havin' a bit of drink last night, and I forgot about the moon. You can rest easy knowin' I won't be doing it again." He shuddered, and looked at his scuffed boots. "It's a good thing you 'ad your animal friends over. I hope you aren't feeling too off this morning."

Remus smiled wryly. "I'm a little more sore than I usually am. Some bruises, but Dumbledore and Fawkes came by this morning, and healed my cuts."

Mundungus looked even more horrified. "Well... erm... tha's good to hear."

"Yeah, speaking of bruises," Ron said, rubbing at his tender behind, "what did you have to go and throw me off the stairs for Remus?"

0 0 0 0 0

Needless to say, no one told Molly and Arthur anything about what had happened the night of the Christmas full moon. They did notice Ginny's black eye, but before they could yell at Remus, she told them she had accidentally run into a shelf. In fact she had run into a shelf, she just neglected to mention that it was a blood frenzied werewolf who had thrown her in the direction of the aforementioned shelf.

They had to explain about how active they had been through the night, because all of them were bruised and aching in some form or another. Ron refused to sit down for two days because of his tender posterior, and Neville had a large purple spot in the middle of his forehead from where he had run into the wall. Luna only smiled when people asked her about the massive ink stains she still had, and explained that she had wanted to see how geckos wrote.

Remus himself was bedridden for nearly three days, and to explain his absence they had to really over-emphasize the amount of fun they'd had.

Hermione had gotten into a bit of trouble from her parents for ignoring her promise to arrive at her uncle's house first thing Christmas morning. She'd just had to tell them that a friend had suddenly taken ill, and she'd needed to be nearby. Her parents were furious that after so long of not seeing her, that she would put her family commitments second. She'd been very upset with their disapproval, and ended up spending the rest of the week with them to make up for it.

Molly had to suspect something what with everyone being so off, but everyone was giving her the same story, so she couldn't very well say they were all lying to her.

By the time New Years Eve rolled around, everyone was back into the normal swing of things, and Harry was able to take lessons with Remus again.

"Alright, bring the pensieve over here." Remus asked, and Harry placed the bowl on the desk. There were already a few strands of thoughts floating around in the bowl, as Harry had discovered over the past week that he could leave them there if he wanted, as a sort of journal of important events. He'd recently put in quite a few of his happiest memories in an attempt to improve on his patronus casting, and to work on emotional analysis.

"Alright, are you willing to show me the images of the Hogsmeade hunt?"

Harry blanched. "Are you sure? I mean... Wormtail..." he trailed off, his meaning quite clear.

Remus shook his head, looking unperturbed. "We need to analyze your fighting strategy, so we can see where you might improve. The fact that Peter was there and that it was likely his last few moments is insignificant."

Harry eyed him warily. "Well, if you're sure."

He prodded the silver in the bowl, and they watched the events unfold. As Harry had expected, Remus went a little pale when he saw Wormtail, but he held his ground and they continued on watching right to the point where the group of friends and the two teachers disappeared down the Honeyduke's passage.

"All right." Remus said, letting out a breath of air he seemed to have been holding for awhile. "We can start with your aim."

"But you said that I have great aim!" Harry countered.

"No, not with your wand. With your arm." Remus said, pointing to Harry's right arm. "You didn't once throw any physical objects at the Death-Eaters, except for the moment when you were pelting them with galleons, and really that looked more like accidental magic than anything. It was rather uncontrolled, from what I could see."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Should I have thrown something then?"

Remus shrugged. "There's nothing that puts a witch or wizard off more than someone who doesn't use magic to defend themselves. Many people believe that they can only use their wands to fight, but we both know that that's nothing but hogwash."

Harry smiled, seeing the thoughtful glint in Remus' eye. "So what are we going to do now to practice aim?"

"Something I haven't done in ages." Remus said. "We're going to juggle!"

0 0 0 0 0

Harry looked sadly out the window of the Hogwart's Express, and waved to Remus and the Weasleys who stood outside on the platform. He and Remus had certainly become a lot closer this Christmas, and Harry had found himself confiding quite a bit in his tutor.

Remus was easy to talk to, and better still, he was an adult who cared. Harry had tried his hardest not to let himself get too close to the werewolf, but he couldn't seem to help it. Even now, Harry understood the lurking threat that stood behind them both. With Remus being almost constantly ill, and an active member of the Order of the Phoenix, and Harry being the top victim on Voldemort's list of people to kill, their lives were always on the edge. One simple misstep could be the end for either one of them, and Harry didn't want any regrets or misunderstandings between them.

He didn't want it to be the way it had with Sirius. Then it had been nothing but incomplete letters sent sporadically, and constant semi-awareness of the other's presence, then an incomplete end with no real goodbyes.

After Mundungus Fletcher's embarrassing blunder, the headmaster had decided that it was most certainly too dangerous to let Remus use Grimmauld Place any more and he'd asked if Remus might want to consider using the Shrieking Shack. The shack had been originally set up to keep in an active werewolf safe back when Remus was in Hogwarts, and it was fear charmed so there was no chance at all that an innocent person would come inside. People wouldn't even go near the place on a dare as they were so frightened of the 'ghosts' that the shack was famous for.

Harry was pleased to know that he had a real reason to keep in constant touch, now that Dumbledore had agreed to let Remus stay nearby for his transformations. Dumbledore knew that Remus did not cope well on his own and Harry was pleased to help out. He was glad that he had a valid excuse to see the werewolf regularly even if it was only when he was in werewolf form.

Remus waved back to Harry from the crowded platform, and smiled. "Send me a letter!"

"I will!" Harry called back. "Hedwig's looking forward to the work!"

The station slowly disappeared, and Harry once again took his seat beside Hermione. Ron and Luna had apparently gone off to find the head boy and girl for some reason, and Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Harry were left by themselves in the compartment.

"She really is looking forward to it, you know." Hermione mumbled to him.

"Huh?" Harry hadn't a clue what she was talking about.

"Hedwig." Hermione clarified. "She told me she doesn't get much work from you. She sometimes feels as if she isn't needed."

"Oh." Harry said, stunned. He looked over at his beautiful white owl, and she seemed to be eyeing him reproachfully. He had always seen a certain amount of intelligence in the creature, but he was once again reminded just how _human_ his owl could sometimes be. "I'm sorry Hedwig. I'll come and see you more often all right? Maybe Hermione or Ginny will have some messages that they want to send."

Both of the girls nodded. "That's what I told her." Hermione explained. "She's very worried for you though. She thinks that you don't write to other people very much because you don't have many friends. I explained how it was to her."

"Er..." Harry paused. "How is it?"

"That your friends are almost always in the same place you are. It'd be kind of silly for you to be sending out letters to people if they were standing right next to you."

"Oh."

"What did you two find out from Crookshanks?" She asked, patting what looked like a ginger ball of fur that had curled itself up in her lap.

Ginny and Harry shared a look.

"He's decided that he's the alpha." Ginny explained, and both she and Harry blushed. "I think when we didn't bother to fight him for that package of catnip he took it the wrong way, and decided we were inferior."

Harry nodded. "He's a very helpful and brave cat, but I still think he's pug ugly." He looked fleetingly over at Neville when he realized what he had just said. "Sorry, Neville. It's just an expression."

"No harm done." Neville assured him.

"And what did Pig tell you about Ron?" Ginny asked enthusiastically. It sounded as if she really wanted some dirt about her brother for possible future bribery.

Hermione blushed. "Pig doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut."

"Really?" Ginny asked. "Do tell."

At that moment, Ron and Luna returned to the cabin, and Hermione blushed again, obviously not willing to tell the rest of the story in front of Ron.

"Do tell what?" Ron asked, plopping himself down on Hermione's other side. Harry felt her shift nervously toward him, away from Ron.

"Er..." Harry tried to pick up a new thread of conversation. "Do tell us what happened to Trevor, Neville?"

"Yes, of course." Hermione interjected, sounding incredibly relieved. "We were just discussing our pets, and we were wondering why we haven't seen Trevor in awhile."

Ron looked as though he knew the subject had changed on his behalf, and he stared at Hermione sizing her up, a hint of a threat in his eyes.

Neville made the whole thing just that much less believable by letting out a little, "urp," and staring at Ron and Hermione as if he had only just realized what sort of things Pig might have told her. "He... erm... passed away just before Christmas."

"Oh isn't that a pity." Luna said patting him on the arm. "I'm very sorry to hear about your loss."

Neville's chest puffed out a bit. "Yes, well he was quite old you see. I've had him since I started at Hogwarts, and even five years is quite long for a toad. I'll be okay though. Maybe now my gran will let me get an owl or something." He looked back over at Hermione, almost as if he might be thinking twice about the possibility. He wouldn't want any pet of his to be telling all of his secrets. "On second thought, I think I'll ask her if I could get some other sort of pet."

Ron cringed. "I hope it wasn't too forward of me to be buying you that rubber frog. I didn't realize... I'm sorry."

Neville just smiled. "Not a worry. Maybe I'll get a lizard."

Luna clapped her hands eagerly. "Oh, you must! And you'll bring it to our hide and seek!"

"Of course." Neville answered, blushing. "You, after all, are the only one of us without someone to talk to."

Luna let out an uncharacteristic squeal, and kissed Neville enthusiastically on the cheek.

Everyone else exchanged looks silent approval.


	28. A Week of Defense

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has been so patient in waiting for new chapters. After that flurry of fifteen or so chapters I posted at the beginning of this, you probably expected a chapter a day from then on. Things have been a little crazy this past week, but It should calm down a titch.

Muggle-lover Disclaimer: The 'internal' that I can get on this contraption called a 'come-puter' is such an interesting thing. Those muggles are genius!. I can put stories and things up here too, although using these keysrather than a proper quill is a bit odd. I wonder how they sign their name here? I guess they don't really bother, since they're not supposed to take any credit. Strange, that...

**Chapter Twenty-Eight-**

**A Week of Defence**

The first week back at Hogwarts after Christmas was strangely quiet.

Although people were pleased to see that Luna had returned, and felt it inevitable that Snape would have too, most people were still grieving the loss oftheir Hogsmeade weekends, not to mention the loss of the town itselfandthe six people who had died there. The students were still quite shaken at the thought that the coming war might actually affect people _close_ to them, and Hogsmeade was far too close to them for comfort.

To get people's minds off the destruction of the only completely wizarding town in Britain, Harry planned a DA meeting for the first night back before classes started up again.

"Do you think they'll rebuild?!" Hannah Abbott yelled to Harry as the group practiced loudly in the room of requirement. It was before the meeting had officially started, and Harry now had them reviewing older things until the whole group had arrived.

"I'm not sure." Harry answered. "I would assume that if the proprietors have some sort of insurance or something, then they might."

"Don't be silly, Harry." Hermione interrupted. "Wizards don't have insurance."

"Well you'd know better than I"

Hannah giggled. "It's amazing, you know. If I were listening to this conversation, and I didn't know you two, I would say that you were Mugglborn, and Hermione was pureblood."

Harry chuckled. "That's why we need you Hufflepuffs around. To show us that no matter what anyone says, we're all bloody backwards."

"Anyway, back to the topic of Hogsmeade." Hermione reminded them. "The people who were earning more money for the town will be given commissions from the ministry so they can rebuild. The people who weren't, will have to find some other way of running their business."

"That's a real shame." Hannah said sadly. "I happen to remember meeting the witch who runs one of the smaller apothecaries. She said her business really had never done all that well by ministry standards, but said it was a very fulfilling job. The shop has been there for millenia, and it had all sorts of interesting and rare potions ingredients. I'd hate to see people like her kicked out of the town because they're not making enough money."

"Yeah." Harry agreed. "It sounds like they want to make the town into a Wizarding mecca or something. Only good stores can stay and all that. The rest of you poor lot, get out."

"I was impressed with what I heard about you fighting the Death-Eaters in the Three Broomsticks." Hannah said, making Harry blush with some embarrassment, but also with anger.

"Ginny was there too, and they didn't bother to even mention her in the Prophet."

"Really?" Hannah asked, surprised. "You would want them to bring attention to her?"

"Well...Good point." Harry had never thought about it that way. By letting the Prophet focus on him, it was also keeping his friends mostly out of the line of fire. Now he was feeling mixed up about the issue. He didn't want anyone in Voldemort's circle to focus on his friends, but he knew that some people, like Ron for instance, might want to see a little bit of the limelight they deserved every once in awhile.

"I really have to accept the fact that they knew what they were doing when they confronted the Death-Eaters along with me. People deserve credit where credit is due." He told Hannah. "I hate seeing my name in the paper all the time, it makes me feel as if people are always looking over my shoulder, watching for the moment when I screw up. Mind you, after last year, it's not like my pride has anything to do with it."

They stood there thoughtfully for a moment, before Harry realized that he had forgotten that they were in the middle of a DA meeting. He noticed thatthe rest of the grouphad arrived.

"Everyone, hold off on the practice for a minute, and come here. I have a new project for us to start." He called out.

Slowly, people began to gather themselves on cushions in a circle around Harry again. Once everyone had been seated, Harry began.

"Every battle in which I've partaken has given me a certain amount of experience to draw on. In the battle just before Christmas break, I noticed something about the way I fought that I didn't like."

Everyone looked slightly alarmed. "What was it?" Mark asked, as though he were horrified that Harry could possibly do anything incorrectly.

"I've always found it necessary to take cover behind something." He said. "Don't get me wrong, It isn't a bad thing to put something between you and your attackers. It can certainly save your life sometimes,but it also leaves you very vulnerable."

Ginny furrowed her brow in confusion. "How so?" She asked. "I thought we had a pretty good vantage point."

Others in the group gasped at Ginny's comment. They stared at her looking blatantly curious.

"Only because there was a door behind us." Harry pointed out. "Tell me though, what would we have done if that door wasn't there?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, well I guess we probably would have been stuck there until someone came to help us."

"Right." Said Harry. "We didn't have the dexterity necessary to dodge spells. This is something that we need to remedy. Objects like tables and chairs and bar counters won't always be available to protect us when we need them. Even after learning every shield spell knownto wizardkind,we would still be much safer ifwe were nowhere near the shot to begin with. Wehave to physically move away sometimes in order to escape the more dangerous spells. For instance, the Death curse has been sent at me more times than I have fingers, and the only time I didn't find some way to hide from it was when I got this." He said, pointing to his scar. "That curse can't _be_ blocked magically. The only option you have is to put something in your way, or dodge it."

Most of the people in the room of requirement stared at Harry in shock.

"Now there are a few simple maneuvers that I've found useful when I fight, and even though they have nothing to do with magic, they're sometimes the best defense I've got."

A few people nodded.

"But, I won't be showing you those just yet. I want to do some more research before we start that particular study, since even I don't really know how to describe a lot of these things.I'll get to it, but I have something else in mind first. Something a lot more fun." Harry grinned, and the rest of the DA eyed him warily.

"A type of offense that I haven't taken advantage of in any fight thus far, that I want to begin practicing immediately, " Harry added, suddenly conjuring a ball of blue flames in his right hand wandlesslyand soundlessly. "Is my ability to catch and throw." He said, tossing the ball from one hand to the other. "This bluebell flame, taught to me by one of our own, - thank you Hermione – is completely safe when the fire is held directly on your skin, or levitated by magic."

He turned around, thought hard about what he needed, and watched as the room extended itself into what looked a bit like a miniaturized archery range. Four small circular targets stood on a tall reinforced wall board about twenty feet away.

Harry pitched the ball of flame at the closest target.

BOOM!

The room of requirement rocked, and the DA members let out yelps of fear and alarm, some of them scattering, and heading for the door. Harry almost snickered at the sight.

His aim was marked by a large black crater in the reinforced board, about a foot and a half away from the centre of the target. Over Christmas, he and Remus had been practicing throwing bean bags at the back of the door. Since this was the first time he'd bothered to actually _aim_ the bluebell flame, his aimwas a bit off.

"As soon as the bluebell flame hits something that is not your skin, it explodes. In order to do this, I must have the ability to aim simple objects the muggle way. So without further adieu..." He waved his hand at the shelves to his right, where a large pile of square beanbags suddenly sat waiting.

They pitched the beanbags at the four targets for half an hour, many of them feeling that anything that didn't involve magic was in no way going to help them. They all trusted Harry's experience though, and if he said they were going to need it, they probably would.

Harry showed them the proper way to sight along your non-dominant arm and use the direction of your toes as a lead, then how to draw back and release. He talked about the different sorts of grips, and how they affected the bean bag's direction, speed and arc.

It was all just basic physics according to Hermione, even though she had never really pondered the idea of chasers or baseball pitchers being knowledgeable about physics before. It was something of a revelation when she realized that Ron and Ginny had already known all of these things, and hadn't told her.

A fewother members, including Mark, who had played baseball all of his life, or Katie, and Ben, who had been practicing with a quaffle for quite some time, were more than comfortable with their aim. They were able to repeatedly hit the targets time and time again, so Harry started them on the next phase; juggling.

This one was nearly new for Harry too, since he'd had less than a week to work on it with Remus at the end of the Christmas break. He dropped the bean bags almost as much if not more often thanany of the others. He had a blast though, practicing his throws and catches, and watching as the others did the same. He couldn't deny that it did seem to help with hand-eye coordination, and anticipating the direction of a throw or spell.

He was surprised to see that the Creevey brothers had quite a bit of experience when it came to juggling, and they were making passes, juggling with one hand, switching bean bags, and doing other tricks that Harry thought lookedquite advanced. Apparently their parentshad both been part of a juggling act in a muggle circus when they were younger. They ended up doing most of the teaching in this subject, and Harry was quite happy to hand over the reins. He and Hermione also went around to those who were already comfortable with their aim, and taught them the bluebell flame charm.

Colin and Dennis juggled those too, much to the dismay of many of the students nearby. Once they ended up singing the hem of Ginny's robes when they dropped one a little too close to her feet. She spent the rest of the meeting glaring at them from the corner of the room of requirement, absent-mindedly tossing two beanbags back and forth between her hands.

Harry and Ron shared a private look and a little laugh as they scanned the deranged looking group. They were both remembering the little figurine that Ron had given him for Christmas.

"Pretty soon we'll be asking you to open your mouth so we can stick our heads in there eh?" Ron asked him.

"I'd like to see you try it." Harry dared him evilly.

The DA was beginning to look a little like a travelling circus.

0 0 0 0 0

Defense class was a little muddled the next day, and Harry was glad that he had gotten in a proper DA meeting the night before. He was incredibly bored with this material, and spent most of the class doodling on a spare bit of parchment, and pretending to read up on shield charms.

Professor Trelawney spent half the time pacing the classroom while everyone read up on their notes, and the other half she spent telling students what awful fates might befall them if they continued on in their horrifyingly dangerous pursuits.

It was a little too much like a Divination class for Harry's liking.

"I forsee a horriblebattle," She told Harry, holding her hands above his head as if she were absorbing the vibes from his brain, "in which the grim looms overhead, but the outcome is yet unknown. Death lurks in nearly every corner."

Harry nearly rolled his eyes, and Hermione leaned over to him.

"I could have told you that." She whispered, and Ron burst into uncontrollable giggles.

"You hold a long silver sword in your hand." Trelawney muttered, obviously trying to recapture Harry's attention. "And with that tool you will find power. That power will threaten to overtake you, even when you believe yourself to be immune."

Ron now leaned over and whispered in Harry's other ear. "I think that's supposed to be the past. She should get her tenses straight."

Harry grunted, trying his best to refrain from laughing. He was feeling a little sorry for Trelawney, and he hoped that she would begin to see the benefits of real defense soon.

Trelawney gave up with a sigh, and moved on to the next student. Obviously she found it less than productive to tell him off for disrespect anymore. She had likely noticed that it wouldn't make any difference.

She obviously had no qualms about keeping him after class though, and Harry watched wistfully as his friends climbed down the ladder into the hall.

"Mister Potter, I wanted to ask you if you could help me learn to defend myself properly. I've thought about it, and I think I need the practice."

He could have told her that. Why hadn't she mentioned it in class? Why did she have to bother him like that if she knew she was just going to turn around and admit that he was right?

"All right. Would tomorrow night be all right?"

"Fine. Meet me here, tomorrow at eight o'clock."

Harry nodded, and left the classroom with butterflies in his stomach. It couldn't be any harder than teaching the DA could it?

0 0 0 0 0

After the rest of their very long and exhausting Monday classes, Harry, Hermione and Ron ran up the stairs to the Gryffindor dormitory, and retrieved Ravenclaw's book from Harry's trunk. McGonagall had assigned extra work in transfiguration to everyone to make up for lost time before and during the holidays, and Snape –who still looked horribly ill- was in an even worse mood than ever. He had graded the paper Harry had handed in before Christmas at a failing mark, and Harry couldn't really see any reason for it. It was possible that Snape hadn't put in as much time since his return, and was simply taking out all of his annoyances on Harry's paper. It really irked him, but he had said nothing and kept his eyes diligently away from those of the greasy-haired professor.

The three of them quickly pounded down the stairs to the library, and waited at the desk while Madam Pince finished her firecall. She was crouched down with her head in the fire, and they all quickly turned away from her office area, to avoid giggling at her large bum which, sticking up in the air that way, was quite noticeable.

"What can I do to help you three?" She asked politely, as she pulled her head out of the fire, and brushed the soot from her robes, and her face.

Harry, red faced and nervous, placed the book carefully on the counter. "We have something that I think you might be interested in seeing."

"The spine needs to be oiled." Hermione clarified. "We also thought you could help with that."

"Right." Madam Pince reached over, and turned the book to face her.

Her jaw dropped.

She placed the book carefully on her desk, with shaking hands. "Where did you find this? Are you sure this is authentic?" She asked, looking as if she wanted to faint. A pair of half-moon spectacles hung around her neck on a chain, and she whipped them up to rest on her nose.

They passed glances between each other, and she didn't seem to notice when Ron didn't answer her first question. "No... well, we're pretty certain that it is authentic, but maybe you could find out for us?"

"It's in excellent condition." She mumbled, looking closely at the condition of the leather. "You're right about the spine. Hold on." She reached below the counter, and pulled out a bottle and a rag. "Magic is good for newer books, but really old ones, you want to do by hand." She explained, opening the lid to the bottle.

She pressed the rag to the rim, turned it upside down, and let a bit of the oil seep into the cloth. Then she picked up the book reverently, and dabbed the oil along the spine. After a few applications, she began to rub lightly in a circular motion.

After less than ten minutes, she had oiled not just the spine, but the whole cover, and it gleamed, making the title stand out clearly. "No good to just do half the job." She explained. "You want this book to be properly taken care of."

Once she had wiped away the excess oil, she capped the bottle, and placed the book reverently on a felt pad she kept stuck to her desk. "Now, let's see what you've brought us then."

"Um... Madam?" Hermione interrupted. Ron elbowed her, to let her know that they wanted to find out if it would open for her without them telling her what to do.

"Hmm?" She asked absently, opening to the title page. She flipped to the next page that said: _Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor: The First Seven Years._

All three looked on with smirks, as she tried to turn to the next page, and couldn't.

"What's going on here? Is the ink stuck?" She asked, trying to check the edges, running her hand along the gold.

Nothing happened.

"We've discovered that the pages only turn for certain people." Ron said chuckling.

"It won't work for me either." Said Hermione at the librarian's confused expression.

"It looks almost like it doesn't work for anyone who wants to read it really badly." Harry said laughing.

"This requires more research." Madam Pince said, sighing. "But I doubt that I am the one to provide it, seeing as I can't get in." She closed the book, and handed it back to them. "You take good care of that now," she said in a warning tone. "It's very valuable."

Hermione took the book, and clutched it tightly to her chest. "We promise," she said importantly.

Harry turned back to her when a question occurred to him. "Madam Pince, If you don't mind me asking, what is your heritage? Wizard or Muggle?"

She huffed angrily at the question. "I don't see what that has to do with anything Mister Potter." Obviously the anti-muggleborn sentiment going around between some of the Slytherins had her a little worried.

"Oh, no. It's not like that." Hermione soothed. "We just thought that maybe the book descriminates against Muggle-borns. We're trying to figure it out. I'm muggleborn, so I thought that might be the reason."

"Well I don't know if that's the case." She said, sighing in relief. "Rowena Ravenclaw wasn't really like that. I'm technically half and half, butmy parentswere both magical. Muggleborn mother,pureblood father." She explained.

"Well that doesn't help us at all." Ron rolled his eyes. "That's the same background as Harry, and he can read the book with no problem. This is just getting more and more confusing every time we try and figure it out."

Madam Pince pointed to the book that Hermione held. "You'll most likely find the answers in there." She said clearly. "Let me know when you do."

They nodded, and left the library.

"I'll read as much as I can tonight." Harry promised, holding his hand out to Hermione for the book.

"Can't yet." Ron stopped him. "Quiddich practice is in half an hour. Didn't you see the notice I left on the board? We're going to practice until ten."

Harry growled, remembering the notice from that morning. "What? And leave no time for homework? What kind of barbarian are you?"

Ron laughed. "You can do your homework later in the week. We don't have potions or transfiguration until then. For now, we have to concentrate on that awful Gryffindor-Slytherin game coming up."

Harry groaned now. "When is it?" He asked, sounding very much as though he was asking for the date of his own execution.

"One month from today. We have to get on it, or we'll be slaughtered. The Hufflepuff game was too easy. Slytherins don't play fair like the Hufflepuffs."

"You're telling me."

"Besides," Hermione interjected, "we promised to take the book to Dumbledore once we had it in reading condition. I'll take it to him."

Harry sighed. "Ask him to look for the reasons that some people can read it and some people can't. The fact that we can't figure it out is driving me batty."

"You think you're frustrated?" Hermione huffed. "I can't even open the thing to read it for myself."

0 0 0 0 0

The Gryffindor and Hufflepuff sixth years filed into professor Vector's Philosophy of Magic class on Wednesday morning.

Harry tentatively ducked behind Ron going through the door, hoping she hadn't noticed him arrive.

It was a good try, but it didn't work. "Mister Potter! How good to see you!"

He rolled his eyes, and turned to face the heat.

"I'm so pleased to be able to tell you in person how honoured I was to have been saved by you! It's certainly something to tell the family! My life was SAVED by HARRY POTTER!"

Harry blushed, notcing the other students in the class beginning to stare. Hannah Abbott smiled at him sympathetically. He didn't know what to say, so he just stood awkwardly and waited out the storm of enthusiasm.

"I'll have you know that not many wizards could have risen to that challenge! You did it so beautifully that I can't help but believe every word of every story you've ever told about your experiences! I was wondering if you might want to share one of them today?!"

_OH NO. _Thought Harry. _How do I get out of this one?_

"Er... No thanks." He said, hoping she would just leave him alone for one class.

"That girl who was with you... Ginny Weasley! She figures into one of them doesn't she?!" She prompted hopefully. "Something about a basilisk and a phoenix?"

"That was in the Chamber of Secrets." Harry answered cautiously.

"And something happened to your old Defense teacher that night that made him lose all his memories!" She sounded as if this were a fascinating idea.

Before Harry knew it, he was telling the whole class the story about how he had saved Ginny in her first year from Tom Riddle's diary. He blushed the entire time, knowing he shouldn't give away too much, and knowing that not many people had known that Ginny Weasley had been posessed by Voldemort's diary much of her first year.

He let Ron tell a bit of it, including the fact that Harry hadn't known he was a parselmouth until that year, and had been pretty spooked by the fact that he was hearing the basilisk talking in the walls. Harry knew it sounded better coming from his friend rather than him, and he felt very grateful that Ron was backing him up.

Ron was incredibly honest when he told the part about Professor Lockhart and howthe teacherhad used Ron's broken wand to accidentally erase all of his own memories. Ron had always felt that that part might have beena bithis fault.

Personally, Harry felt grateful that Ron's wand _had_ been broken then, because otherwise Harry would right now be in St. Mungos hospital in Lockhart's place.

"I always wondered what had happened to Professor Lockhart! He seemed like such a pleasant young man!" Professor Vector sounded a little vexed that the Defense teacher she'd known hadn't been the man she'd though he was.

It seemed that the information that circled easily among the students, didn't always travel so quickly among the staff.

He tried to play up the idea thatFawkes had really been the hero, and saved his lifetwice. Once when the phoenix had gouged out the basilisk's eyes, so that Harry could look at it safely, and once when he'd cried his phoenix tears onto Harry's wounded arm. Professor Vector's comments about the story made it sound as if Harry had been returned from the dead, and that he must have had some sort of flash of realization at that moment, where he had understood that it was his destiny to fight for the sake of good the rest of his natural life.

He couldn't very well deny that it was his destiny to fight, but it hadn't exactly happened like that. He let her comments slide, neither confirming, nor denying them.

Harry made it very clear that the story shouldn't travel out of the class, and as many people present were a part of the DA, he knew they would understand. People would probably be giving Ginny a hard time about having opened the chamber of secrets and petrifying all of those people, even if she didn't know what she was doing at the time. He was quite pleased when professor Vector interjected as he voiced his fears for Ginny's safety.

"OH OF COURSE NOT!" She exploded. "Miss Weasley was right by your side helping you when you saved us all in the three broomsticks! No one would ever even _consider_ the thought that she could be a dark wizard in ANY WAY!"

"There goes that 'dark wizard' thing again." Said Hannah. "She's female. Say 'dark witch'. Say it!" She growled.

"Now, Miss Abbott! Mister Potter was telling us an interestingstory! Please do not interrupt!"

Harry smiled sympathetically over at Hannah. "All right. I'm just glad that no one will think that Ginny is a dark 'witch'." He said, and Hannah grinned. "Because she's not. She's actually quite far on the side of good."

"So are you dating her?" Seamus asked bluntly.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Ron grin as if he knew some deep dark secret.

Harry thought Professor Vector would berate Seamus for getting off topic, but she smiled, and waited for his answer. It seemed that she was just as interested in his response as Seamus.

"What?" Harry asked, surprised, knowing that he had hesitated a little too long for them to really believe him. "Of course not. She's my friend."

Seamus smirked, the same way Ron had, and the two Gryffindor's shared a look.

Harry winced, but he knew that to deny it any more would be to dig himself deeper into a hole.

0 0 0 0 0

They spent a few hours in Hagrid's class learning about Chimaeras, although Hagrid was very upset that Dumbledore had forbidden him a live specimen. He spent most of the class explaining why Chimaeras were terribly misunderstood beasts, and spent the rest of the class explaining how their claws could rip through steel, or their teeth could break apart diamonds.

_Yes, terribly misunderstood beasts,_ thought Harry.

Harry stayed late, right through his study period, and practiced his legilimency on Hagrid. He had been able to get over the idea that he was taking away time out of his friend's life, and focus completely on the things he could now do with the ability. It was very interesting how simple it had become, since he was practicing regularly.

He was finding it quite simple now, to just _know_ when a person fibbed, as long as he was watching their eyes. Harry still couldn't see back into people's histories, and he was getting a little frustrated that it wasn't going the way he'd intended.

After dinner, he made his way up to Trelawney's tower for her first Defense lesson. He was so nervous that he when he knocked on the trapdoor, his knuckles were shaking so that it rattled like a snare drum.

"Come in please." Trelawney's voice floated down to him.

He pushed the door open, and peeked into the classroom. "Er... Professor?"

"Ah, yes. Mister Potter, do come in." He could tell that she was trying to keep her tone light and mystical, but instead she sounded tense.

He climbed through the trapdoor, and set down his bag beside one of the desks. He pulled out his wand, and moved to the centre of the room.

"The headmaster tells me you are quite a proficient teacher." She said, looking as nervous as Harry felt. "I have Seen that I will soon need these skills. The wizarding world is in danger, and many battles are ahead." She hung her head sadly.

"Er, right." Harry said. "Alright, what I thought I'd do is go through the basics. You probably know all of them already, but they could be useful to sort of hone them. So we start with the disarming charm."

Trelawney hugged her wand tightly to her chest. "What? How can I possibly expect to have a fair battle if one of us has lost our wand?"

Harry sighed. "If it were a fair fight, then both combattants would just shake hands and be done with it. This is the nature of battle, professor. One will win, and the other will lose. In a proper tournament duel, it might be considedered bad form to hex a person without a wand, but a Death-Eater won't have those restrictions."

"Okay." Trelawney pinched her lips together in a white line, and got herself into what she obviously thought was a proper dueling stance. She stood with her feet spread, her knees bent, and her arm straight out before her. She didn't seem to have a dominant side or even know what to do with her other hand, so she stuck it up in the air behind her. Her wand was held properly, but that was pretty much the only good thing he could say for her style.

_Oh, no. This is going to take some work. _Harry decided to humour her, and moved into his favorite position. Elbows bent, body turned to the left slightly, wand hand loose but turned slightly, and left arm down at his side to catch himself in case he needed to hit the floor. "Alright, after three we both cast. One, two, three."

"Expelliarmus."

She didn't even get a chance to fire off a shot. Her wand came sailing into Harry's hand, and immediately he handed it back.

"Three things first." He said. "You put yourself at risk when you stand face on to your attacker. Wider shoulders make more of a target."

"But I have to see them!" she complained. "How am I supposed to duel if I'm not facing them?"

"Can you move your head?"

"Yes, but-"

"Turn your head to the side to face me, and have your body face the wall. Trust me, it's slimming."

She turned with a look of reluctance on her face.

"Er... You're right handed. You'll probably favour the other side." He pointed out.

She turned one hundred and eighty degrees, and Harry nodded. "Next, your wand arm was straight. You'll need to bend the elbow or else you won't be able to get any room to move your wand. You want to be flexible here."

She bent her elbow.

"Third, where am I most likely to aim?"

"Er... My head?" she asked.

Harry nearly rolled his eyes. "Well, since I'm trying to disarm you, I'll probably want to aimin theregion ofyour wand."

"Oh."

"So if that's where I want to hit, you might want to give yourself the ability to move away. It's a pretty central area, so any direction will get you out of the line of fire. Try to make it a habit to move away from a shot, even if you're going to cast a shield. Your left arm will come in handy for balance, and also for catching the floor if you need to duck. It'll be easier to propel yourself back into a standing position if you put it here."

He demonstrated by sending himself into a fast dip, touching the floor with his fingers, and she looked on trying to emulate his actions.

The first time she attempted it, she fell.

After a few minutes, they had the battling posture straightened out, but she looked very awkward. Harry had the feeling that she would much rather be holding a crystal ball than a wand.

"After three. Bend your elbow." He reminded her. "One, two, three. Expelliarmus." Her wand still left her hand, and flew over to Harry's. She hadn't had a chance to say a word. He doubted that she'd remembered that she was supposed to.

"Okay, that was adequate form. Now we work on speed and enunciation."

It was going to be a very long night.


	29. All's Fair in Quidditch and War

A/N: I apologize for the words that were all mushed together in the last chapter. I think it might have been my space bar, which acts up on occasion, but I don't know for certain what happened, since I was sure that I had edited it all properly. If the same thing happens again, don't hesitate to let me know. (Thanks to Queen Weasel, -my most avid reviewer thus far- who let me know about it the first time.)

Dursley Disclaimer: I wouldn't want some swotty writer trying to take my stuff, so BACK OFF! TAKE THAT! AND THAT! AND THAT! EXPECT JK ROWLING TO JUST SIT AROUND WHILE OTHER PEOPLE STEAL HER STUFF, AY? TAKE THAT YOU SNIVELLING FREAK!

**Chapter Twenty-nine –**

**All's Fair in Quidditch and War**

Trelawney's lessons were all two hours long, and by the end of an exhausting January, Harry had seen only a little improvement in her abilities.

He couldn't believe that her style was so shoddy. She had a very good arsenal of jinxes, charms, and spells, but she hadn't a clue of how to use them. She was very difficult to teach, mostly because she just didn't really _want_ to learn how to fight. She kept asking him if the things he had done were fair to use in a duel, and Harry had to keep reminding her that in most of the duels in which he'd participated, the legalities were immaterial, and that skill was all that mattered. The only three spells he would not use in any case were the unforgivables, and she would counter his excuse with the thought that there were plenty of spells that should have been unforgivables that weren't.

He finally broke down one lesson and yelled at her. "You're learning how to fight to keep yourself alive! Not to duel for the purpose of someone's amusement! Fighting is dangerous, and you have to use every tool you have available to you!" and he had stomped down the silver ladder, abandoning the professor for the evening.

"I swear, I'm going to go crazy one of these days." He told Ron once he was back in Gryffindor tower. "With the DA and Quiddich, and Trelawney. I feel like I'm going to rip my hair out. I'll be insane by the end of the term!"

Ron shrugged. "Too late for that mate. You're already insane."

Harry narrowed his eyes at his friend.

A grin was returned. "Well, quiddich game with the Slytherins is tomorrow, then after we win that I'll let up on the practices, and you can teach other people how to bash each other over the heads all you want."

Harry laughed.

"Speaking of practice, I booked the pitch for twenty minutes from now. We can head out early."

Harry groaned.

0 0 0 0 0

Mark obviously hadn't known what to expect in the Gryffindor-Slytherin game because his commentary was slightly out of whack.

"What is he... Hey that's not legal!" he yelled, when Crabbe, who was the Slytherin beater,clubbed Jack Sloper in the head with his bat. Harry pivoted and tried to avoid looking at the mess Crabbe had made of Sloper's nose. The more he could keep his eyes off the game and onto searching for the snitch, the faster it would be over, and the sooner Harry could get back to the Gryffindor common room and verbally abuse Malfoy and his henchmen with Ron and Hermione.

"Penalty shot to Gryffindor!" Madam Hooch yelled, pointing at Crabbe with a foul look on her face.

Ginny took the shot, and got it through. At least they were still scoring.

"The game is now one hundred twenty, to eighty. Slytherin in the lead." Mark called. He sounded highly disappointed that he had to tell the crowd this.

Ron was not doing well today. He'd been bashed by a bludger in the side of the head earlier, and Harry could see that he was still woozy. He hoped he'd be able to last out the game.

"Ron!" Harry called to him. "You all right?"

He had a thin line of blood that ran from the top of his scalp, down one side of his face in front of his ear.

"Doing just fine Harry." He said, but he didn't sound it. He looked a little green, and any movement he made caused his eyes to widen, and his fingers to clench painfully on his broomstick.

Harry couldn't do anything about Ron's situation unless Ron admitted to feeling too dizzy to play. He flew off, keeping his eyes peeled for the elusive snitch.

He caught sight of Hermione in the stands, sitting with Neville, and she had her handswinding her cloak into a knotin obvious fear. She was staring at Ron with horror, and mumbling something incomprehensible under her breath.

Harry vowed then and there, to get the snitch within the next five minutes. If not to save Ron the pain of his injury, then at least to stop Hermione from tearing out onto the pitch to drag the stubborn redhead off to the infirmary.

Malfoy was looking distracted today, and he'd fallen for the wronski feint twice already. It was probably due to the fact that Malfoy was still having difficulty with his tongue after Harry's attack before Christmas. The lack of concentration Malfoy had shown thus far could be the edge they needed to win the game, since Ginny, Ben and Katie were getting clobbered by the Slytherin chasers. It's not that they were all that good, but Crabbe and Goyle, the beaters kept using underhanded techniques to smooth the way for them. Almost all of the goals Gryffindor had achieved so far, were from penalty shots. Over three-quarters of which had been incurred by Crabbe and Goyle.

The snitch fluttered across the pitch right in front of Malfoy, and Harry's heart stuck in his throat for a moment. He breathed a sigh of relief when Malfoy didn't react. He kept his eyes eyes carefully glued to the golden ball. Malfoy wasabsorbed withwatching the Slytherin chasers, oblivious to the presence of the snitch right beside him.

Harry slowly pivoted, keeping the snitch in his sight, and moved in a line towards it. He gradually picked up his speed when he knew that Malfoy couldn't possibly make it in time. Soon he was flying at breakneck speed, directly towards the golden ball, his body bent low towards the handle of his broomstick to cut down on wind resistance.

Malfoy realized what was happening a moment later, when Harry was nearly upon it. He blasted off with horror written in his eyes. Harry reached out one hand, and closed his fist upon air. The snitch had jogged out of his way at the last second, and Harry swerved dangerously to follow it. He closed his hand twice more, and Malfoy was almost on top of him by now.

In desperation, he concentrated on the fluttering golden wings, held out his hand, and as soon as the snitch was less than a foot away, he silently summoned it.

The snitch flew right into the palm of his hand.

For a moment, he was elated, clutching the prize, and holding it aloft as the cheers of the crowd rang over his head. Then after a moment, while listening to the raucus boos of the Slytherins, he suddenly felt horrible, and retracted his extended arm to look closely at the snitch he had caught as though it were infested with some evil virus.

It was supposed to be illegal for the seeker to summon the snitch into his hand. He'd read about it in 'Quiddich Through the Ages'. Did anyone else realize what he had just done? He hadn't said the charm out loud after all. Would anyone have been able to see the magic?

He pasted an expression of triumph on his face, and went to congratulate his team members, leaving Malfoy scowling bitterly behind him.

After a minute of being patted on the back and heartily embraced, Harry quickly flew over to the Gryffindor goals where Ron sat on his broom batting Ginny away from his head. Hermione stood on the ground, wringing her hands and staring up at them.

"G'way Gin. I've got to finish the game!" Ron said, batting her hands away from where they were attending to his bloodied head.

"Ron, you've got to come to the hospital wing." Ginny pleaded with him.

Ron pushed her in the shoulder, nearly unseating her from her broom. "You're a chaser, go chase something." As Ginny began to slip, there was a terrified yelp from Hermione, down on the ground.

"Ron, the game's over. Trust me. We've won!" Harry interjected, flying close enough to make sure Ginny still had a good grip on her broom handle.

"We've got to win, Harry! What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be looking for the snitch?"

"I already found it Ron. Come on, we're taking you to the infirmary." He grabbed Ron's arm, and pulled him forwards. Ginny took his other arm, and they attempted to guide his broom toward the ground. Ron struggled the whole way.

"No! Harry! What are you doing? The goals will be open! Anyone could score!"

"Ron, Hermione doesn't want any of us in the air anymore. She doesn't like flying a broomstick remember?"

"Hmm." Ron's hum sounded as if it could have been thoughtful or it could have been an attempted laugh.

"If we don't get you onto the ground right now, she's going to turn into eyespy and come up here to get you herself to stop you from playing."

Ron's eyes widened. "She doesn't want me to play?"

"She doesn't want you to get hurt."

"Hmm." That incomprehensible thoughtful-laugh came out of him again. "Hermione's really worried about me." He sounded as if he might have been proud of this.

"Yes, now will you come to the infirmary?"

"Okay."

They reached the base of the stands, and Hermione was waiting. She looked as if she was ready to slug Ron, but the sight of the blood running down his cheek, and the vacant grin he sent in her direction made her change her mind. "Ron! What did you think you were doing!"

"I was playing quiddich!" Ron told her exhuberantly. "I'm the captain you know."

Hermione rolled her eyes, and transfigured her Gryffindor flag into a clean white cloth, which she pressed carefully against his scalp making him wince. "Yes, I know you're the Captain. Doesn't that make it your responsibility to stop the game if one of your players gets too hurt? You shouldn't have been playing so long. You've got a bad injury."

"Hmm. Not so bad."

"It's bad if I say it's bad!" Hermione insisted. "Look at the mess you've made of your quiddich robes!"

"That's just for effect." Ron told her, beginning to stumble along the path up to the castle. "Means I've had a good game."

Harry and Ginny trailed along behind their two bickering friends toward the hospital wing, and although Harry was worried for Ron, he couldn't get the thought out of his head that he had _cheated._

"Ginny, did you see what happened?" Harry asked her out of the corner of his mouth, as they climbed up the front steps into the school.

"Goyle attacked Ron with the bludger when madam Hooch's back was turned. The stupid git knows he's not supposed to attack the keeper when the quaffle isn't inside the scoring area. He just did it to sabotage us.Onepenalty shotis hardly a fitting retribution."

"No, I meant with the snitch. At the end of the game. Did you see that?"

"Huh?" Ginny asked, looking puzzled.

Harry gulped. He had to tell someone. He was feeling horrible, and he knew that the only way to get this feeling of total self-disgust to leave was to get it off his chest.

"I think I _cheated_ Ginny."

Ginny furrowed her brow. "How? I didn't see anything. I don't think anyone else did either."

Harry quickly scanned the hallway around him."I used wandless and soundless magic to summon the snitch into my hand."

Ginny's eyes widened. "That isn't legal!" She hissed.

"Hence the word _cheated._" Harry whispered back sarcastically.

"Why would you do that? Weren't you closer to the snitch than Malfoy was? Why did you think you needed to?"

"That's just it. I didn't need to. It just sort of happened."

"Were you just getting tired? Did you think he might get there before you even though you were closer?"

"No, not really. I couldn't say why I did it. Impatience or something, I guess, but the fact is I did, and I don't know what to do about it now."

"Why is this so important to you?" Ginny asked, suddenly changing her tactics. "I mean, you would have caught the snitch eventually, I'm almost sure of it. Are you worried that someone will find out?"

"No, If they find out, then they find out. It's more just a matter of the fact that I cheated at all. What if this is the beginning? What if it's the one tiny little thing that starts the ball rolling, and I turn into some horribly evil version of myself?"

"Don't tell anyone else."

Harry felt himself blanch. "I couldn't do that. I don't want to become the next Voldemort. I'm going to tell Madam Hooch."

Ginny smiled. "I was just testing you. That's what I wanted to hear. I think that with that sentence, you just absolved yourself."

"Really?"

"Well, you still have to follow through on turning yourself in, but the fact that you've promised to do so says that you have a high sense of morality. You aren't evil Harry, and you could never be. Not if you keep up your ethics, and admit your mistakes."

A heavy breath whooshed out of him, and Harry suddenly felt as light as a feather. Lighter even. People had told him that he was a good person before, but when Ginny said it in that way, she really made him believe that it was true. She seemed to even have proof to back it up.

"I'll meet you all later in the hospital wing." He told her, and left to go and see Madam Hooch.

0 0 0 0 0

"It's not possible." Madam Hooch gaped at Harry.

"Well I did, and I needed to turn myself in." Harry assured her.

"No, I mean it's not possible for someone to summon the snitch. I've counter charmed it not to respond to that particular charm. You couldn't possibly have summoned it."

Harry sat down in the chair opposite her desk with semi-relief. "Well it certainly felt like I had summoned it. It moved into my hand."

"Well, I don't believe that's what happened. I've seen the snitch do some strange things, and it's not exactly charmed to run away from people, just to move quickly and silently so as not to be seen."

"Oh." Harry said. "But I did try to summon it, and I know that's illegal."

"Yes it is, but since it's impossible for the snitch to follow those directions, I promise not to take away the quiddich cup. Failed summoning charm or no, Gryffindor did win in the end."

"But aren't I in trouble?"

"I think you showed very promising initiative to turn yourself in, and I'm glad you've told me. I'll be taking twenty points from Gryffindor for your illegal act, and as long as you promise not to try it again, I don't see why you shouldn't just go about your business as usual."

"Oh." Harry said again, feeling confused and pleased at the same time. He was glad he wasn't kicked off the team or anything. McGonagall said that if she had any reason to send him away than she would. Obviously this didn't quite qualify.

He left the flying instructor's office thinking to himself that he'd had plenty of potions classes with Snape where he'd lost many more points, and had a much harder time emotionally than the encounter he'd just had.

0 0 0 0 0

That night, he lay in bed feeling miserable, and unhappy. He shouldn't have thought to summon the snitch to himself. Even if what Madam Hooch had said was true, it was against the rules. It was underhanded and sneaky. He was glad that Madam Hooch had taken twenty points from Gryffindor, it made him feel a little better, but he still didn't feel comfortable with himself.

It was an incredibly Slytherin thing to do.

It was selfish.

Hagrid's thoughts about Harry being on the verge of dangerous flooded his mind. Not that a simple cheat on a Quiddich game would suddenly turn him into a dark wizard, but couldn't it be the beginning? Could it be the first selfish act that pushed him towards the darker path? Ginny thought not, and as long as he kept thinking morally, he could never become like Voldemort. She had to be right. She _had _to.

He thought for a second about his nemesis. What sort of things had Tom Riddle done that made him the creature he was today? What sorts of shameful and selfish things had he inflicted on others while he was learning how to be human? Had he ever really learned to be human?

He had probably done a lot worse at sixteen than cheating on a quiddich game. Ginny's experience with his diary could attest to that. According to his diary self, he'd set the basilisk upon the students of Hogwarts, and even killed poor Myrtle, who was now a ghostwho hauntedthe third floor girls lavatory.

Harry even wondered if Tom Riddle had played Quiddich when he had been in Hogwarts. If so, what other things did they have in common? He knew that Riddle had been raised in a muggle orphenage, and that his muggle father had wanted nothing to do with him or his mother. His mother had died giving birth to him. Would she have loved him? Or would she have hated him for reminding her of the man who had obviously abandoned her in her time of need?

At least Harry's relatives had taken him in. That was certainly something. His aunt Petunia may not have liked the idea, but she had taken him in. There was something about that thought that comforted Harry. No matter how much he loathed being at Privet Drive, there was some adult in this world who cared enough about him, or at least felt the sting of family obligation enough to take him in.

Tom Riddle hadn't had that. His own father had abandoned him to a muggle orphenage. It was likely a horrid place to be for a child. It meant that Harry had something very important in common with Tom Riddle. Their lives had both been changed drastically when they were elevenwith the arrival of a letter carried by an owl.

No one ineither Harry or Tom'schildhood had thought that they would ever be anything but a burden to them.

So a burden was whatTom had been.

And Harry haddecidedoh so hard not to be one.

Harry, unlike Voldemort, had the comfort of knowing that his parents had loved him for a whole year. He knew that they had loved him enough to die for him. That his aunt had cared enough about him to realize her familial duty.

Unlike Voldemort, Harry had seen a glimpse of what family was supposed to be. Not that the Dursleys were much of a role model, but the ghost of happiness lay just beneath the surface, and he could sort of feel the way things _should_ have been had he not been present.

Harry gritted his teeth, and shoved the fear to the back of his mind.

_Someoneloved me once. _He chanted over and over in his mind. _Someone may yet love me now._

Half an hour later, he felt calm enough to fall asleep.

0 0 0 0 0

_The room was dark and shadowed, and three figures knealt at the foot of his robes. It was not the persitent darkness of Death-Eater headquarters, but some place else. This place had an expensive look to it. Oil portraits and gilt windows showed recent signs of being dusted in the moonlight that slitted through heavy black drapes. Silver torches lined the walls, but only two of which were lit. Not enough to see the faces of the three cloaked men._

_He turned to the first. "Lucius, you have done me well over these past months. You shall be rewarded. I will allow you a month to go off and visit with your wife. I have heard that she pines for you, and has prepared the necessary precautions for your safety." He smirked, to make it clear that he thought women a disgusting weakness. _

"_My lord, I aim only to serve you. Do you send me away because I displease you?" The greasy blond man answered with a slight lisp. The speech impediment was the remenant of an attack involving that cursed Potter boy before Christmas. Lucius had not been the same ever since._

"_You answer well Lucius. But I must respond in the negative. I have met your wife. I think her a _charming_ female. She is useful to our cause, and I wish to please her. I do not send you away for your sake, but for hers, and for the sake of your son, whom she tells me must have your wisdom and guidance when he visits soon. He may be useful to us as well."_

_Lucius nodded, and grinned evilly._

"_Go now, and stay away from the eyes of the Aurors. Take your amulet with you, and you may return to our fold when I call."_

_Lucius Malfoy apparated out of the room smiling._

"_Now Antonin. Show me what you and Lucius have found."_

_The second figure stood with pride in his eyes. He led the way as they walked slowly from the first room through a small door, and into the next._

_A grey lump of robes was flopped into a corner of the second room._

"_I have stunned him. He will wake in less than a minute."_

"_My god, it's the minister." The voice of the third figure spoke, and the Dark Lord turned on him, eying the man critically. "That is obvious, Severus. I hope you are speaking simply of amazement."_

"_Of course master. You know that I have not been comfortable with physical violence for some time. I was simply pleased that Dolohov and Malfoy were able to capture him for your amusement. It is certainly a victory for you."_

_The Dark Lord did not completely believe him, but that did not matter. He had not yet done anything to _disprove_ his allegiance. Severus Snape might not be comfortable with the act of performing violence on others, but the Dark Lord had seen into his mind. He certainly thought violent things. The master would simply have to bide his time. Perhaps a test of wills would speed things along?_

_Voldemort smiled._

"_Appariward, sense, victory, pleasure, war." He said, waving his wand, and he felt the powerful apparition wards go up around him._

"_Please leave us, Antonin, Severus. I will 'question' him myself."_

_The two forms left the room._

"_Enervate."_

Harry woke.

"Not again." He mumbled, feeling his scar crack with pain.

The minister of Magic was being tortured, and no one would be able to help him. No one could get inside those wards.

Except Harry.

He realized what he could do. The minister was alone with Voldemort. Harry could go into the dark lord's head, and try to take the wards down for the minister to apparate away. He would have to concentrate.

Harry looked over at Ron's sleeping form, and he felt the sting of another blast of torture through his scar.

There was no time to lose.

What was the code again?

"Appariward, sense, victory, pleasure, war." Harry mumbled to himself, then he quickly reversed the order of them in his mind.

He began to meditate.

_A sense of duality stole over Voldemort for a split second, and Harry worked to push his own emotions away._

"_Minister?" He heard the voice come out of his mouth was split between his own, and that of his nemesis._

_Cornelius Fudge's body shook with fear._

"_Minister, It's Harry."_

"_No, please don't hurt me!" the minister shrieked._

"_Minister, I've taken over Voldemort's body for a second, and I can't stay long. I just need you to do something for me."_

"_What? Harry?... Harry Potter?"_

"_Yes, it's me. Don't tell anyone that I can do this. Even Voldemort doesn't know. I'm going to help you right now. Are you all right to apparate?" Harry asked softly, trying to tone the creakyness of his new voice down._

_The minister stood on shaky legs, and immediately collapsed back to the floor. "Probably best if I don't stand." He said nervously. "I'll be all right to apparate, though... I think."_

"_Minister, I'm going to take the apparition wards off the building. I know the code he used, and I want you to disapparate as soon as I leave."_

"_Okay." Fudge said in a small voice. "Thank you." He couldn't bear to look up into the horrible face, but Harry understood. One did not expect a teenager to have eyes like that. Nor did one truly want to believe that a teenager could be able to save a life the way Harry was now doing. _

_Hope was too precious a thing to just throw around sometimes._

_Harry raised the unfamilliar wand, and knew he would be able to use it well. It was the brother of his own, the other feather from Fawkes, after all. The power of it felt similar, but the wood was different. Whisps of clinging evil passed through the tips of his fingers where he touched it, and Harry felt weakened by it. He felt his scar twinge a little, before he remembered that in this body, he had no scar. The thought unnerved him. He had to concentrate, or this would not work._

"_War, pleasure, victory, sense, appariward." Said Harry quickly, waving the unfamiliar wand.He knew he would not be able to stay after performing the spell. The evil of this wand permeated his system, and it drained him. He quickly lowered the wand, and slid out of Voldemort's mind before he lost his control completely, and did something stupid like get himself noticed. He rested for a moment at the edge of Voldemort's consciousness._

_A sense of duality stole over Voldemort, and he looked down at his prize. If he was feeling dizzy then it wouldn't do to take too much time interrogating this man. He could already see that it was going to be a pointless venture, although he had planned to toy withthe ministerslightly longer. This man didn't know anything about the Order of the Phoenix or Dumbledore. It would be best to dispose of him quickly._

"_I'll have to cut this meeting short Minister. I hope you don't mind." He pointed his wand at the shuddering pile of robe, thinking that this was the time to end it. The killing curse would suffice, and he could dispose of the body quite easily. Or perhaps he would send the body back to the ministry as a warning?_

_Although he was inches from death, Cornelius Fudge smiled weakly. "Just the words I was looking for," he said shakily, and disapparated._

_Voldemort screamed with frustration._


	30. The Minister of Magic

A/N: Funny how those spaces keep going missing. I'll have to check them all over this time, I think. Thanks for letting me know what was happening. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and especially to the person who asked if they actually _did_ wax the covers of leather bound books to keep them intact. The answer is... possibly? I know they used to wax bits of parchment to keep them preserved,so it just seemed appropriate that they might do the same to the covers. I KNOW for a fact that old leather coverings have to be regularily oiled to keepthe suppleness of the material, or else it'll dry out and crack. I believe that if a person used wax to cover up the oil to begin with, it would seal in the oil, and keep it from drying out completely. Don't ask me how I know this, it'll take too long to explain. Suffice it to say that I've seen the technique used elsewhere, but I don't know if they did it to books. Sorry. If anyone out there knows the real answer, let me know! I like to know when I'm just talking out of my $$!

This is the 'someone-please-give-me-some-new-ideas-for-my-disclaimers' disclaimer: **Voldemort is icky**. 'There! I said it! HA! (Sorry, I'm in a goofy mood. I'll write a better one next time.)

**Chapter Thirty – **

**The Minister of Magic**

Harry heard himself scream loudly, and he cut his voice off in mid-cry. His scar was burning, and he could feel the frustration and anger which was now rolling in Voldemort's gut.

It was too late to cut off the sound for the sake of the rest of his sleeping dormmates. His entire dormitory had heard the yell, and was now awake, some leaping into the air in surprise, and Ron mumbling, "Huh, wha!"

Harry felt his emotions rush back in, crowding him, and he used the excess magic on the drapes around his bed, which shot wide open. He used more wandless and soundless magic on the sheets and comforter, which he tossed to the floor without touching. Having everything surrounding him was making him feel claustrophobic.

The Gryffindor boys were a little surprised to see him already sitting up, and alert, rather than asleep and dreaming.

"What happened Harry?!" Ron asked, looking stunned, and still a little sleepy."Was it Voldemort again?"

Dean and Seamus winced at the name, but Neville made a concerted effort not to, as they waited patiently for Harry's answer.

"He had Minister Fudge." Harry replied, and at their stunned looks, he explained in depth what he had just seen and done.

"So you just saved the minister of Magic's life?" Dean asked, stunned. "You should be getting an award for that or something!"

Harry shuddered. "I hope not." He had told Fudge not to say anything about his being able to take Voldemort over, but he wasn't certain that the man would listen to him. Cornelius Fudge had always proven himself more willing to help himself, and less willing to help others. He just wasn't all that certain that Fudge would understand the importance of staying silent.

Twenty minutes later, he moved along the quiet halls with professor McGonagall, his scar prickling and burning with anger. Someone, somewhere, was paying a price for Harry's actions. He could feel Voldemort's anger, and he knew he had found someone to blame for the lost wards.

Professor McGonagall was looking rather nervous and bedraggled, as he had been forced to rouse her once again due to his complicated connection with Voldemort. He hadn't been quite as stressed this time as he had been last time, so when she had asked him what was the matter, he wasmore comfortable telling herabout the details of his vision. He supposed that if this happened enough, he might become emotionally immune to the sight of torture. the thought made him shudder with fear.

It had been a long time since Harry had been truly haunted by Sirius' death, but tonight as he walked, the dream he'd had rushed back to him like a serpent out for blood. The image of Sirius' wasted face stood out clearly in his mind. His wistful grey eyes stared at him comfortingly for less than a second, before they sparked, and turned red and slitted. The fear rushed through him, and he strove to supress it.

He let off some of the emotional magic again by pushing a tapestry aside for them to walk through a passage. McGonagall stared at him, a little disconcerted, but she said nothing. Before he knew it, they were standing before the great stone gargoyle that guarded the headmaster's office.

"Puking Pastilles." Said McGonagall, and Harry started with surprise at the password. Fred and George would have been pleased to hear the headmaster using their merchandise as his codes. The more surprising part was the sight of McGonagall using a vile word like 'puke'. He nearly laughed at the disgusted expression on her face. All of his terrified thoughts regarding his dream of Sirius,and his recent horrifying experience with the minister fled.

"Minerva?" Dumbledore asked cautiously from the top of the staircase. "What can I do to help you at this hour? Ah, of course. Mister Potter. I should have known."

Harry and McGonagall met Dumbledore at the top of the steps, and they all moved into the office.

Dumbledore was in his sleepwear, and Harry couldn't help but chuckle a little at the sight of golden cows jumping over silver moons all over his purple robes. The sleeping cap matched, but was covered instead with golden dishesand silver spoons running hand in hand. For a moment Harry felt under-dressed, with his plain brown bath-robe and striped red and white pajamas.

"Professor, we need to contact Minister Fudge." He said quickly, trying to recapture the urgency of the moment. "He was kidnapped and attacked by Voldemort, and I helped him get out, but we need to make sure he's all right."

Dumbledore wasted no time in rushing over to his fire, taking a handful of the glittering powder that rested in a pot on the mantle, and throwing it into the fire.

"Cornelius Fudge's residence!" Dumbledore called, then he muttered what Harry supposed must be a password of some type,then hestepped into the flames.

Harry and McGonagall waited for nearly a full minute before he returned, and directly behind him lumbered a very dishevelled and frightened-looking Cornelius Fudge. He also was wearing his fanciest silk pajamas, though they were hastily covered with a bathrobe. The pajamas were torn a little at the neck, and a purpling bruise was showing on the minister's cheek. Harry also saw a dribble of blood coming from Fudge's nose, and as he waddled into the room, he dabbed at it nervously using the sleeve of his bathrobe, effectively smearing the blood across his upper lip.

"Oh, thank goodness." He breathed, upon seeing Harry seated in one of the chairs across from Dumbledore's desk. "I thought I had imagined the whole thing." He slumped uncomfortably into a large chintz armchair that Dumbledore immediately drew up magically for him.

"Are you all right, Minister?" Harry asked him.

"All right now." He mumbled. "I've taken a potion, and I could be sore come morning, but much better than I would have been. That _was_ you who helped me wasn't it? I- I mean, I don't have to worry that he's put me under the imperius or something, then let me go?"

"Yes it was me. No, you'd know if you were under the imperius spell, and so would I." Said Harry, knowing that Fudge would need just as much encouragement as Percy had.

"How did you do it?" He asked bluntly.

Harry tapped his forehead. "I have a connection to him through my scar. I sometimes pick up information about what he's doing."

"That's brilliant!" Fudge enthused. "You could do a lot with that you know."

Harry didn't want to get angry. He took a breath, and let it out slowly. "I don't want to do a lot with it." He said between clenched teeth. "I want to get rid of it. I don't like seeing people being tortured any more than you enjoyed _being_ tortured."

Fudge gaped for a moment, looking a little shaken at the mention of his own predicament. He cleared his throat nervously. "Er, well, I can understand that." He mumbled.

"I don't think you do!" Harry growled, his pent up rage at the regular ineptitude of the ministry beginning to seep out. "There are so many things that you've been wrong about in the past. Do you know that I almost didn't go back to save you tonight? I don't honestly trust you to know what's good for the wizarding world anymore. In the past you've put your faith in many people that you shouldn't. How do I know there aren't more Death-Eaters near you in your ministry? If anyone else finds out about this from you, I can't guarantee that Voldemort himself won't find out. If he knows, then I lose my edge against him. Do you see how dangerous that could be for me?"

Fudge had the good graces to blush and look apoligetical.

"Who have you told?" Harry interrogated, and Fudge squirmed understandably in the heat of his gaze.

"Well, I told my wife." He mumbled. "I thought she would be able to help me... you know…fix myself up a bit. Didn't have time to tell anyone else."

Harry turned to Dumbledore. "Have you met her?" he asked.

Dumbledore nodded. "I spoke with her tonight."

Does she know not to tell anyone else?" Harry asked both of them.

"Yes, I informed her of the importance of silence." Dumbledore's words made Harry breatheto calm himself a bit..

"You should be getting an award for this, Harry." Fudge said, puffing himself upimportantly.

"Is your life any more important than the life of Percy Weasley?" Harry threw back at him stubbornly.

Fudge blushed again, and quite obviously wanted to answer in the affirmative, but didn't dare.

"He was attacked by Voldemort too." Harry said, watching Fudge flinch. "I saw it, and sent people to save him. Should I not have received an award for doing that?" he asked, but didn't wait for Fudge to answer. "I find it incredibly arrogant of you to assume that I saved your life because you are the Minister of Magic. Right now in this war, no one can put much emphasis on titles. I saved your life because Voldemort needs to be put in his place once in awhile, and I don't like watching people being tortured. I won't differentiate between a poor man with no title to his name, and a rich man who just happens to be the minister!"

Fudge had flinched again at the Dark Lord's name, and franticallly scooted his chair backwards away from Harry.

McGonagall sat smirking in the corner, watching while Minister Fudge was put neatly in his place by a sixteen year-old boy. It occurred to Harry that he ought to be kinder, since the man had just been _tortured _after all, but he didn't think coddling was the correct course for the moment.

Fudge blushed and squirmed, knowing that what he was feeling right now was his due for being so arrogant for so long. "Is there something else I could do to help you mister Potter?" he asked, trying to sound strong, when they could all see that he was very close to breaking down, possibly into tears.

Harry was about to say no, and he half turned himself away from the distraught man to do so, but a sudden epiphany made him turn back.

"Do you remember," he began, looking carefullyinto the minister's eyes, "what I told you three years ago about Sirius Black?"

Dumbledore's lips cracked into an amused grin, and McGonagall gasped, putting her hand to her mouth. They knew what he was going to do, and it looked as if they approved of it wholeheartedly. They alone understood how important it was for Harry to do what he was now doing.

The minister was suddenly well in control of himself at the abrupt change of subject. "Crazy blighter." Fudge spat, not knowing how much he was once again pricking Harry's temper. "You said something impossible about how he's innocent of all of his crimes." He harrumphed. "How could he be innocent of everything when there was so much evidence against him?"

"The only evidence there was against Sirius was flawed, and he never had a proper trial to prove otherwise." Harry growled.

"Never had a trial?" Fudge furrowed his brow. "Bollocks."

"I'll tell you what you can do for me Minister. You can look into the records of the trial of Sirius Black, and tell me what you find. As his godson, I can tell you that Sirius would never have done those things he was sent to Azkaban for. Peter Pettigrew did every one of them, then the nasty traitor spent the next twelve years in hiding from everyone in the form of a rat. How do you explain the fact that Voldemort is back? Pettigrew revived him!"

"Nonsense!" Fudge grumbled. "Black would have done that! He's his right hand man! And what sort of contact have you had with Sirius Black!? He should be locked back up!"

Harry turned calmly to his headmaster. "Professor, do you have your pensieve handy?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, and he nodded. He walked over to the cupboard behind the furiously scowling Fudge, reached in, and pulled out his pensieve.

The surface of silver memory sat glittering and glowing etherially in the darkness of the cubpoard, and when Dumbledore pulled it out, it lit up his face from below, putting into perspective the lines and shadows of his face.

"Thank you headmaster." Harry said, smiling. "You don't mind if I use this for now, do you?"

The headmaster gestured to the liquid in the bowl as he set it down upon his desk. "Be my guest."

Harry moved over to the bowl, took out his wand, and touched it to his temple. He let the memories of Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew filter into the silver strings, then he deposited them into the mix of Dumbledore's memories. Fudge looked a little stunned that Harry knew how to use a pensieve properly. They were not usually the sort of things teenagers picked up. Most teenagers didn't need something external to clarify or settle their thoughts, nor did many of themusually_want _to. More often, a pensieve was used for important business, or for infirm or older Witches and Wizards who had a bit of trouble remembering things.Harry saw Fudge eyehim suspiciously.

Harry prodded the surface with his wand and watched as the ghostly form of Wormtail the rat rose out of the liquid.

His fur was patchy and his balding skin looked a little reddened in places. A flash, and in the memory Peter's human form knelt thereshivering and cowering.

"_Well, hello Peter." _Remus' voice said, from somewhere inside the memory.

"_Sirius… Remus… My friends… my old friends." _It was obvious to Fudge that Wormtail was no innocent victim here. All Harry needed was to prove that Wormtail had actually been alive, and had at one point been seen by Harry. He didn't need any more from the night in the shrieking shack, so he let the memory slip.

He prodded the liquid again, and out of the mist of silver rose a large black cauldron that was frothing and bubbling. Wormtail's voice echoed shakingly throughout the memory, _"It is ready master." _

Another voice answered him, high and screechy. _"Now"_

Obviously Fudge didn't recognize whose voice it was, but McGonagall and Dumbledore both caught their breaths in their throats, and watched as Wormtail slowly moved into the image carrying a small bundle in his arms. He carefully dropped the bundle into the hissing cauldron with a thunk, and wrapped the leftover swaddling cloth and set it on the ground, his hands shaking uncontrollably.

"_Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"_ A loud crack rent the air. A fine cloud of dust rose up to obscure the image, and a piece of flying bone plopped into the cauldron.

Wormtail pulled a dagger from his robes, and held it tightly in his left hand. He broke out into petrified sobs, as he raised the dagger high into the air. _"Flesh – of the servant – w-willingly given – you will – revive – your master!"_

Harry could see the moment when Fudge recognized what Worntail was doing, and who it was in the cauldron. The blood completely abandoned his face, and he twitched away from the image. His eyes, however, remained fixed on the events as if they were stuck there.

Wormtail brought the blade swinging down, and his wailing cry echoed around Dumbledore's office as his severed hand fell to the silvery grass at his feet twitching.

"Show no more!" Fudge cried out, covering one hand over his mouth as if he were going to be sick. He covered his left ear with his other hand, trying to block out the sound of Wormtail's whimpers as he deposited his own flesh and bone into the cauldron. "I know what this ritual is for! Please! Show me nothing else!"

Harry didn't really want to see the rest of this scene either, so he let the ghost sink into the silver thought once more. Watching Fudge angrily though, he mercilessly reached over to prod the surface of the liquid again. Fudge whimpered.

This time, Sirius Black rose up to greet him, and Harry nearly sobbed at the image. His godfather sat magestically atop the huge form of Buckbeak the Hippogriff. He was wearing ratty old prison clothes, but to Harry, he looked like a powerful knight, riding the back of the grand animal.

"_We'll see each other again..." _Sirius said, clutching at Buckbeak's feathers and nodding at Harry._ You are – truly your father's son, Harry." _He smiled warmly, and the hippogriff took off into the sky.

Then another image overtook the one on the Hippogriff, without any request from Harry. It was a scene that was always just waiting in the back of his mind, and had somehow snuck its way into the penseive while Harry was thinking about his godfather.

Sirius stood fighting with Bellatrix Lestrange on a round dais in the Department of Mysteries.

"_Come on, is that the best you can do?" _He taunted the Death-Eater, and circled around for a different vantage of attack.

She shot something at him that had then been a red bolt, but was now a silver memory, and he was not prepared for the attack. The shot caught him right in the middle of his chest and he flew backwards, a look of mingled alarm and horror on his face. The black veil, which had sudddenly appeared at the side of the memory rippled once when Sirius fell through, as if caught in a mild breeze, then fluttered back as though nothing had ever disturbed it. A cry of triumph came from Bellatrix, and Harry's terrified screams of Sirius' name started up in the background as the memory flickered and died away.

Harry turned to look at Fudge, feeling overwhelmed and angry at the same time. He was surprised to feel tears on his face, and when he looked over at Dumbledore and McGonagall, they were both looking suspiciously misty-eyed. McGonagall had her eyes shut tight, and her hand fluttered at her throat as she gulped down a wave of emotion, and Dumbledore stared morosely at his entwined fingers. His eyes looked surprisingly hollow and sunk.

"How could those incidents have been in my memories if they didn't really happen?" Harry berated Fudge, his voice cracking with emotion. "Sirius was a good man. He didn't deserve the ignorance with which the Ministry treated him. He didn't deserve to have all the happiness he had left drained out of him for _twelve years_. An innocent man doesn't forget that he is innocent while he's in Azkaban, Fudge. That is not a happy memory, and the Dementors couldn't take it from him."

Fudge, for his part, looked stunned. It took him a while to gather his flying thoughts, and when he finally had, the truth must have dawned heavy on his shoulders.

"An innocent man was in Azkaban for twelve years?" He asked, biting his lip.

"Hard to imagine, I know. But true."

"I can vouch for Harry's story." Dumbledore interrupted. "I didn't know Sirius the way Harry did, but I know that without a doubt, it is the truth. Black was innocent, and I know that the aurors only requested my statement, which I didn't know was incorrect at the time. I was never asked to attend a hearing, and I never complained about it, as I too, thought Black to be guilty."

Fudge, for once, looked ashamed. "I'll have to look into this. If he didn't get a trial, then there is a very simple way to have him exhonerated. We can simply hold the trial he never got."

Harry nodded. "That's all I ask."

"I'll return to my office immediately, and let you know what I find." Fudge turned, and made to leave through the fireplace. "Before I go…" He stopped, and turned back.

"Yes?" Harry asked.

"Thank you for saving my life, Mister Potter."

"You're welcome."

"And…" Fudge looked ashamed yet again. "Could you possibly not mention to anyone that I was…was a little… cowardly?"

"I didn't notice." Harry assured him. "A coward is only someone who shows his fear. You didn't."

Fudge puffed out his chest at the compliment, and smiled as he turned to leave.

Harry hoped he hadn't just done something very wrong by complimenting him.

A faint buzzing sound suddenly filled the office, and Dumbledore leapt in alarm. He grabbed at his chest, and for a second, Harry was afraid the wizard was having a heart attack. Instead, he pulled from under his robes a fine gold pendant on a chain.

"Three, two, one." He muttered.

A gasping cough pulled Fudge's eyes away from the fireplace.

Severus Snape stood in the middle of the headmaster's office looking green, clutching tightly to a small golden amulet identical to Dumbledore's. He had a large gash on the side of his face, and the blood ran down his chin and neck, right through his robes. Harry could see the blood covering his hands, turning the pendant red.

Snape shuddered, dropped the amulet, fell to his knees, choked once more and vomited in the middle of the carpet.

Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore rushed forwards to help him, and McGonagall quickly vanished the small puddle of sick.

"I'm all right." Snape growled, attempting to throw the other teachers off his back. He looked shakily up to see Harry staring at him, and he scowled fiercely. "You nearly cost me my place, Potter."

Harry knew Snape was telling the truth. He could see the honesty flashing in his eyes, and Harry understood that the potion master's hard won occlumency was now failing him. The emotions and pain were becoming too overwhelming. Harry turned angrily to Fudge who was still standing by the fire, gawking at the potions master. "Go, now." He said, then pointed at Snape. "_This_ should show you how dangerous this war is. It's not something to be trifled with. Mention tonight to _no one_."

Fudge nodded, and with shaking hands, threw floo powder on the flames.

The green fire rushed up and enveloped him as he stepped through.

"I'm sorry." Harry said quietly, hardly realizing that he was apologising to _Snape_ of all people. "I didn't know how much this would compromise your position. He would have killed him."

Snape growled, still kneeling on the floor, clutching at the side of his face. Harry knew he should not outstay his welcome. "I'll go back to my dormitory now." He said cautiously, then he slipped out of the office, and down the steps to the griffin gargoyle.

His heart was beating so fast by the time he returned to the dormitory that he could hardly sit still.

Snape had said 'almost'. Harry had almost gotten him killed because of his secret loyalties. Harry still didn't understand how Snape could be filled with so much hate, and yet still seem to have the presence of mind to do the right thing every time he was asked. The idea confused and bewildered him. He could hardly imagine why someone who had always shunned those on the side of 'good' would still want to keep working for them as a spy against the people that had once been his friends. It simply made no sense, even though it was the right and decent thing to do.

How had Snape survived? He had obviously been able to keep his place in the Death-Eater circle even after Voldemort's little test, so what had he done to prove himself? It must have been pretty horrible for him to have the reaction that he'd had. It must then have been _Snape_ that Voldemort had blamed for the lowered apparition wards.

So, besides saving the life of a pompous fool, what had Harry accomplished tonight, other than completely undermining the safety of the Order?

He'd learned something valuable, for one.

Harry now understood for the first time why it was that every time he possessed Voldemort now, the Dark Lord did not know that Harry was there. It always had to do with control of his emotions. Snape had nearly lost his, and it meant that Voldemort might already know everything. Harry doubted it, since if it were true, then Snape would not have said, 'almost'.

It all made so much sense. If Harry stopped before sleep or meditiation and took the time to sort out all of his emotions, then he had enough control over his legilimency to keep unwanted minds out of his own. Even with Percy's attack, he had been meditating just the night before, and he had made a concerted effort to empty his mind of all emotions, or at least to sort them out in his own mind.

With that understood, it became completely clear that Occlumency and Legilimency were not two separate things. They were one and the same, and Harry had always had the natural capacity for both.

Last year, when Snape had been teaching him occlumency, he hadn't been prepared for Harry's natural abilities. That first lesson, Snape had even given him a veiled compliment. After Harry had been attacked countless times over a short period, he had felt the pain in his scar increase, and the incidents with his legilimency went completely out of his control. It was more due to the fact that every time Snape would attack, Harry would get angrier and angrier, and he hadn't been able to deal with the frustration logically.

The way Snape had been teaching Harry was that he'd expected Harry to have no knowledge of occlumency at all, and he thought that he was giving Harry the skills he needed to begin his training. Harry really had quite a good base to begin with, and -left to his own devices- he would have very likely flourished. When Snape began to attack his mind over and over again, and Harry became uncontrollably angry, it sent everything careening out of control. His occlumency, his legilimency, and the neverending pain in his scar.

It was a relief to know that he wasn't in danger from extreme mental attacks any more, and even if Voldemort were to try, Harry would know it was him from now on.

Even with that reassurance, he didn't sleep again that night.


	31. Evasion and the Trial

A/N: I'm having an awesome time writing the sequel to this one, but I doubt I'll be able to post it directly after this one. I just like editing too much. So of course, I'll change it all again before posting, and it won't even resemble the one I started with. (Mind you, it's much more action packed than I thought it would be!) However, don't expect another story to beposted immediately after this one.

Whomping Willow Disclaimer: BANG! 'OOF!'

**Chapter Thirty-one –**

**Evasion and the Trial**

"So you say that Snape _was_ actually trying to help you last year?" Ron asked, looking skeptical and trying to retrieve a lost bean bag from under the bookshelf in the Room of Requirement. "I don't believe it. I still wouldn't trust that man as far as I could throw him."

"Oh, Ron." Said Hermione acerbically, starting the juggling circle up again once she saw that Ron was standing again. "You wouldn't trust Snape if he broke down sobbing in front of you." She sniffed haughtily, and did a quick trade with him. "He's done some good things you know."

"I think I'm right to distrust him, thank you." Ron said,trading one with Harry. "That man's got to be a good actor. If he cried in front of anybody, it'd be because he secretly wanted something from them. He'll only do something good for the same reasons. The second Voldemort offers him something better than what we can give him, he'll be spying for the otherside, you take my word for it."

"And Fudge says he'll look into Sirius' incarceration in Azkaban." Harry interrupted.

"Really Harry? That's great news!" Hermoine enthused, as she passed him a bean bag from her lot, and he passed one back.

The DA were doing quite nicely with juggling now, and in throwing and aim, all of them could hit the targets bang-on with very little effort. Many of them, including Harry, could use either hand. Harry thought this could be useful if he wanted to throw a bluebell flame with his left, while also sending a spell with his wand, which had always preferred his right. He'd done it properly a few times, but most of the time, his aim was often off. It was something to work on anyhow.

They had worked a little on warping spells, and catching charms, which both required more dexterity and hand-eye coordination than any of them had started off with, but the juggling was sort of complimenting those studies. It was easier to catch a spellwith the tip of your wand when you were able to anticipate where the spell would be, and move with it.

The younger students were happily joined with the older group for most of this, but any time one of them wanted to learn a new charm, Harry or his assistant teachers would gladly help them. They were all quite far ahead now, and Mark had even told him once that Trelawney often picked on him for knowing too many defensive maneovers ahead of time. Apparently Mark was 'much to knowledgeable for a muggleborn, and could be dangerous.' Harry had laughed, and told him about the many death omens of Harry Potter.

A few feet away from where Harry was catching, throwing and pondering, Mark and Hannah collided rather painfully back to back when both of them went to catch an errant toss.

"Ooh." Said Ron, wincing. "That's got to hurt."

Then his eyes glazed over, and Harry knew he'd just gotten an idea.

"Ron?" He asked, "What are you thinking?"

"Oh," Ron said, suddenly taking notice of the six bean bags at his feet which both Harry and Hermione had been passing to him.

"I've just had an idea." He said, sounding excited. "Harry, you said we needed to learn how to move so that we don't rely on having something to shield us?"

Harry nodded.

"Can I teach that lesson?"

Harry's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Sure. What did you have in mind?"

Ron looked at his watch. "We still have another fourty-five minutes until curfew, do you think I could teach everybody at once?"

"All right. Hey everyone! Ron wants to show us something he's thought up! Gather round!"

Slowly the DA stopped what they were doing, and moved to face the trio.

"Gin, I'm going to need your help." Ron said, tagging his sister by the shoulder, and dragging her over to stand near the bookshelf.

"All right," she said uncertainly.

"Hermione, you stand just here." He positioned her so that he and Harry were in the middle, and each girl was about ten feet away from them to either side.

"This is a sort of game I've just made up to practice our movement. What Harry and I are going to do, is stand back to back, and try to feel each other's movements. Ginny and Hermione are going to try and take turns to disarm us silently. We are not allowed to look back over each other's shoulders, and we have to rely completely on the feel of the other's movements. We shouldn't have to use our wands, but it will be necessary to have them out so that the attackers can disarm us properly. The younger group don't have to do this soundless. It'll probably work pretty well either way. You all know how to measure the distance of your shots now, so the opposite attacker shouldn't really be in danger."

Harry's eyes widened. This was perfect. He couldn't have asked for a better strategy.

"We'll demonstrate." Ron said, taking out his wand.

Harry, Hermione, and Ginny all took out their wands too, and took up their assigned positions. Harry facing Ginny, and Ron facing Hermione. Ron and Harry stood back to back with their school robes brushing each other.

Harry felt Ron tense, and he prepared to step to the side.

However instead of stepping to the side, Ron ducked, and Harry dropped low just in time to see a bolt of gold light shoot over his head.

Harry saw Ginny swish her wand, and he leapt away to the right from the low shot she let off. Ron followed Harry's movements, and leapt with him.

"Speed it up." Said Ron, and they did.

Hermione would shoot, then Ginny, then Hermione again. Each time they missed, because Harry and Ron were getting so attuned to each other's movements that they almost saw it coming from behind them. Harry kept his eyes glued to Ginny, keeping his body movements connected to her wand.

The end of the game came when Ginny pretended to take a shot, and Harry jumped away. Ron jumped too, and Hermione got them immediately. Both of their wands flew into the air.

Ron was breathing heavily. "All right, our mistake that time was thinking that Ginny and Hermione would continue to take turns. We didn't imagine that they would stop doing that after awhile." He explained this to the entire DA.

Harry nodded. "Always be prepared for the attackers to do something different when you least expect it."

"Switch!" Ginny called excitedly. "Our turn now!"

"All right." Ron said, trading their places for those of the attackers.

Ginny and Hermione did quite well too, and were able to dance and leap out of the way of Harry and Ron's attacks. They had learned from Ron and Harry's experience, and when Harry shot twice without waiting for Ron's turn, they dodged both easily at Ginny's insistence.

Harry had an idea to confuse them though, and the next time Ron took a shot, he leapt towards the bolt, catching it before it dissipated, and yelled "Protego!"

The charm bounced off his shield, andhurtledtowards Ginny. She looked panicked for a second, and ducked to avoid it.

Hermione's hair must have singed a little, it wasthat close to her head.

Harry took another shot, and it went towards a grinning Ron, who gladly warped the spell directly back into Hermione. "Cambre!"

She lost her wand.

"All right, everyone else take a try!" Harry called. "I think this is a great way of practicing strategy as well as movement. Do you want to give this game a name?" He asked Ron.

Ron looked confused for a moment, then thoughtful. "Evasion." He said.

"All right, we'll all play 'Evasion' for the next thirty minutes, then you can go off and practice it on your free time. We don't have to keep doing this in DA. It's fun enough that you'll want to keep playing it later."

Ron grinned.

0 0 0 0 0

"Yes, Kettleburn? What is it?" professor Snape snapped at the young girl who stood trembling in the potions dungeon door. She had interrupted a particularily interesting class on the properties of horned toads, and even though Snape didn't look to be in the best of spirits or health, he had been having a very pleasant time making jibes about horned owls being something of a relation to them. Hermione was looking furious. Snape was having a go at her expense, and there was nothing she could do about it, since no one was supposed to know about her talents as an animagus. No one else could figure out why Snape was telling them something so obviously incorrect.

"I've been asked to summon Harry Potter to the Headmaster's office." Sarah Kettleburn stuttered.

Snape looked very much like hewanted to launch into the useful magical properties of lion claws, but he was able to refrain from casting his eyes in Harry's direction.

"Take him, and be off." He coughed raspily, and waved at Harry's desk. "Take your things with you. Class will be dismissed early today, and I don't want to see you here again today."

Harry didn't need to be asked twice. He grabbed his books, shoved them into his bag and ran out of the class, following Sarah Kettleburn towards the gargoyle.

Dumbledore was waiting for him outside his office.

"Ah Harry. Just the one I wanted to see. We have a guest."

"A guest?" Harry asked. "Who?"

"Zoology Toffees." Dumbledore said. The gargoyle leapt aside and allowed them to pass. "Someone that doesn't understand the significance of the news he brings."

"Er…" He broke off when he saw Cornelius Fudge standing in the middleof the office. He was much improved since Harry saw him last, though the bruise on his cheek had turned yellow inthe few days he'd had to heal.

"Mister Potter!" Minister Fudge called exhuberantly, and leapt to attentionat the sight of the pair in the doorway to the office. "How delighted I am to see you!" He shook Harry's hand, and Harry felt very much like he was shaking the hand of a writhing maggott. He nearly pulled his hand away in disgust, but recalled Dumbledore's words that Fudge was bringing him important news.

"What can I do for you minister?" Harry asked politely, trying to shake off the feeling of disgust.

"Nothing at all, my dear boy, except listen to what I have to say."

The Minister took a seat, and Harry conjured one for himself. It was something they had been learning in transfiguration, and Harry was quite proud of the sturdy desk chair he was able to produce. It was quite comfortable, but not overly showy. Apparently magical chairs came in all sorts of brands for different people. Dumbledore usually conjured a sort of chintz armchair. Ron's version even came with plastic rollers on the bottom.

"I'll leave you two to discuss things." Dumbledore said, admiring Harry's chair with a smile. He nodded once, then moved up the stairs and out of the room.

"Right, on to business." Fudge said. "I know all of this will be in the prophet tomorrow, but I wanted to tell you about it personally. It's been kept surprisingly quiet up to now." He said, raising his eyebrows thoughtfully. "Anyhow, I wanted to let you know that Sirius Black has finally been given a full trial posthumously, and has been found innocent."

"What?!" Harry spluttered. "Already?"

"Yes. The Order of Merlin award that had been previously given to Peter Pettigrew will be revoked and in place given to Mister Black."

"But…" Harry felt relieved, but he was also feeling a little cheated. "Didn't you need me at the trial? To testify or something?"

"Absolutely not." Fudge shook his head politely. I'm very sorry to say this, but we could not allow the testimony of an underage wizard. I hope it isn't too frustrating to hear that, but it's part of wizard law that unless the young witch or wizard is directly accused of something, then we can not allow statements from them. Unless of course, we desperately need them to, and even then, the statements are usually stricken from the records for theprotection of the minor."

Harry shook his head, but remained silent. That was entirely unfair. He'd wanted to be there. As far as he was concerned, witches and wizards should be considered to be of age when they were fourteen.

"The trial was held solely on collected Pensieve memories, and for some amazing reason, Professor Dumbledore had collected plenty of them for us to go on. Black was found not guilty of all charges, and the court decided that based on collective memory, that there could be no denying his inoocence or death, so they issued a permanent death certificate as well."

Harry slumped in his chair.

That made it sound so final.

"Mister Potter?" Fudge asked, sounding concerned and hopeful.

Harry sighed. "It's all right Minister. I just thought that people knowing about it might change things. I really don't think it did."

"Oh, but of course it did!" Fudge assured him. "With only a death certificate, the will and property of a deceased convict is to be confiscated by the ministry for jailing expenses. When that convict is exhonerated of all charges, the property is usually given back to the next of kin at whatever request of the will with the final amount doubled at the ministry's expense for loss and pains."

"What?" Harry asked. "How is that good?"

"Don't you see dear boy?" Fudge asked, gleefully. "You were his next of kin!"

"Does it say that on his will?" Harry asked feeling a bit angry. Wasn't Remus supposed to be getting everything?

"What else would it say? Were you not his godson?"

"Yes, I was. But I will not be getting anything from him. Sirius was too intelligent to have done something like that. He would more likely have left things to the people who really needed it."

"Well, I thought you should know about the result of the trial, no matter what the information of his will contains. Just keep in mind that anything stated herin is doubled at the ministry's expense." He promptly handed Harry an official looking envelope.

Harry took it tentatively, unsure of what Fudge meant by that. He opened the letter, keeping his suspicious eyes gluedon the minister.

When he finally looked down, the letterhead of Gringotts Wizarding bank stared up at him from the parchment.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We at Gringotts Wizarding Bank and Loan are very sorry to hear of the recent passing of your godfather, Sirius Black. He and his family were valued customers of our firm for many hundreds of years._

_A formal reading of his will has not been requested, but certain stipulations regarding his trust were given to us in will form by mister Black before his death to be carried out _only_ upon his exhoneration. We have been asked to relay a total of 20 000G from his bank vault to yours, as your formal inheritance, as well as the necessary paperwork and spells to give you permanent posession of the property at No. 12 Grimmauld Place, London. 3000G have been set aside as upkeep for said property with a monthly stipend of 100G to be used only for repairs and maintenance until you are of age to do with the property as you wish._

_The rest of the inheritance has been divided evenly between the personal account of Mr. Remus Lupin, and an unnamed active business account._

_Due to the extended incarceration of Mister Black in Azkaban fortress, the financial department of the Ministry (UK) has asked that I notify you of the unprovoked incarceration clause. This entitles you to doubled benefits at the ministry's expense, including the equal value of the property at No. 12 Grimmauld Place, which (when last evaluated) was stated at 485 000G. _

_According to the will of Mr. Black, you already have a permanent residence with muggle relatives, but he has asked that a wizarding spokesperson should be allowed to deal with any matters of a magical nature for you. He has requested this service of his long time friend, Remus Lupin. You may consider Mr. Lupin your official 'wizarding guardian' if both parties agree. Mr. Lupin has been sent an owl to officiate this development, and you may wish to discuss any matter of your rights as a minor with him before signing the bottom of this form._

_All transfers will be made upon the placement of your new guardian's signature in the given field, as well as your own. If you do not accept, then formal inquiries can be made at Gringotts Wizarding bank, London, UK. _

_A one year time limit has been put on these stipulations, to give you plenty of time to make the necessary arrangements. Your allotted limit for a response expires the 15th of March, 2000._

_With my utmost sypathies,_

_Prootfop,_

_Goblin in Charge of Family Inheritances_

_Beware the ides of March._ Harry thought bitterly.

"And you thought I would be happy about this?" He asked Fudge, brandishing the letter under the minister's nose.

"Well I hear that it's a lot of money." Fudge explained. "It's not something to scoff at."

"I don't need money." Harry rebuked. He was thinking that maybe he could donate quite a bit of Sirius' money to the Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore would like that. Or else he could try and give it to Remus. Remus would appreciate it, and Harry could just say that it was something he was entitled to, as his new wizarding guardian. He couldn't believe Sirius would do such a thing, and he felt guilty for even considering accepting the whole lot.

"Well, then," Fudge said, sounding much more understandingthan Harry had come to expect. "What do you need, if not money?"

Harry stared at him. Had he got the manner of this man wrong? Why was he being so nice all of a sudden, while all Harry had done was bite and snap at him?

"What I need," Harry said carefully, trying to avoid the issue of parental love, "is battle experience without the danger element." He looked up at Fudge with uncertainty. "Every year so far, since I discovered that I was a wizard, I've come face to face with Voldemort or his Death-Eaters, and every time, I've just barely come out of it. And usually, it was only by luck that I escaped at all. What I need is someone to teach me to duel and battle the way I've seen Aurors do. _Teach_ me, rather than force battle experience upon me."

"You want to be an Auror then?"

"Maybe. Actually, my friends and I were discussing it, and we thought we might want to try out a more investigative slant."

"Detective work?"

"Yes. We've been doing research, but we still don't know what we need to get into that field."

"We have an investigations departmentwithin the Aurors at the ministry…" Fudge sounded hopeful.

Harry tried not to be insulting as he answered. "We were hoping to be independent." _Translation, we don't like you. _Harry thought sadistically.

Fudge nodded, looking thoughtful. "I've met a bloke who did that once. Nice fellow. Very smart. From what I remember, he went through the Auror Academy, and graduated in the top thirtieth percent of his class. He was an Auror for a full year before they let him go off into private business. People trust him quite well, you see, since he's got all of those credentials. I think he's properly liscenced and everything."

"So you have to become an Auror before you're allowed to go into the business of detection?" Harry asked.

"I'll have to look it up, and get back to you. I'll send an owl off to Rudolph Abercrombie. He's the lad who's done it before, so he'll know. I'll go and see him this afternoon."

Harry gave him a much more truthful looking smile. Fudge _had_ been very helpful, even though Harry didn't really want to admit it. He looked fleetingly at the letter in his hand. _I can give it away to the people who really need it. _He thought._It won't matter that much._

"Thank you minister."

The minister puffed out his chest with pride.


	32. The Hogsmeade Historical Society

A/N: This chapter is the 'finally we get a few answers and action' chapter. It's one of my favourites, so I hope you like it. I also wanted to just mention the fact that the last chapter was supposed to take place in late February. This one is just getting into March, despite what the date on the Goblin's letter said. I just figure that they decided to give Harry a year, and a couple of weeks to think abouthis letter. I'm sorry for not making that a little clearer. It was one of those things I forgot to add in at the last second.

Winky Disclaimer: 'Hic' Winky is normally a very good house-elf! Winky 'hic' must have done something very very naughty 'hic' to have been asked to give up all 'hic' rights to my 'hic' story. OH POOR MISTER CROUCH! HE IS SO BADLY NEEDING HIS WINKY!!!! (Passes out)

**Chapter Thirty-two –**

**The Hogsameade Historical Society**

"Ron, I'm impressed."

"Huh?"

Harry pointed to the mark at the top of Ron's potions assignment which was sticking out of the top of his bag.

"Eighty-nine percent is a pretty good score for any class. In potions, it's near to impossible." Harry commented, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, that." Ron shrugged. "Hermione helped me with it a bit,thenI had a bit of time in the library yesterday."

"A bit? You were in there from nine until four in the afternoon! _On your birthday!_"

"I wanted to get a good mark all right!" Ron blushed.

"Yeah, but on your birthday?" Hermioine griped. "We had a big party for you in the common room, and you _never even showed up!"_

"Well, next time let me know, and I'll be there." Ron went even redder in the face. "At least I had some cake."

Hermione sniffed disapprovingly. "Yeah, stale cake."

"Just stop bringing it up all right? I felt bad enough missing my birthday to begin with. Sheesh! I finally get around to doing all of my homework properly, and you, of all people, tell me I need to stop and have a party!"

Hermione wrinkled her nose a bit in embarassment. "I guess I see your point." She mumbled.

"It's all right." Harry laughed. "Ever since that letter from mister Abercrombie, I can't think of anything except schoolwork and getting a good mark either. It's been crazy, and this isn't even NEWT year!"

The letter had indeed arrived from Rudolph Abercrombie the week before, telling Harry all of the credentials that he would need in order to be a liscenced independent detective. Harry had discovered that all of the things Fudge had told Harry were not only recommended, they were necessary. There were witches and wizards all over Britain who called themselves 'detectives' with absolutely no formal training whatsoever, but their businesses were usually quite basic and boring. Financial investigations and animal detectives and the like. If you wanted to get into the real deal, with murders, spies, dark wizards, corruption, and saving people's lives, you needed to have the proper credentials to get on to any of the crime scenes, or to access any of the old paper stacks at the ministry. He also said that often enough, a detective would be called upon to research facts in dark wizard trials. They didn't usually do the actual arresting, but the job was dangerous enough when every Death-Eater in town knew what sort of business you had. He said the danger usually followed him around a bit, and Harry thoughtthatwas brilliant. He'd always been on someone's hit list, but it would be nice if there was actually a _reason_ for it.

Abercrombie himself had quite a booming business, and was allowed to pick and choose which investigations he wanted to pursue, but he said he would be retiring in five years, and no one in Britain had yet showed interest in the job. There would be no one there to replace him. He explained that people like him were necessary todo internal investigations for corruption at the ministry because in his opinion, the ministry shouldn't be allowed to investigate their own affairs.

Harry understood that if Abercrombie were to retire, and no one to come up behind him, the ministry wouldn't have any non partisan person watching them anymore, and the corruption would likely go off the scale. Abercrombie was very pleased to hear that the famous Harry Potter wanted to follow his line of work, and wished him luck. He even went so far as to offer him a few interesting details of a case he'd solved which involved a crazy witch from Birmingham using dark spells in the nearby cemetery, where she apparently had been reviving the dead corpses of muggles. He'd gone in undercover, and ended up battling twelve corpses, who he hadn't known had been given certain magical powers by the witch. It sounded incredibly gruesome and dangerous, but strangely enough, right up the threesome's alley. He'd finished off the letter by telling Harry to say hello to his grandson, Euan, who was a second-year Gryffindor. When Harry, Ron and Hermione had searched him out, they'd found him to be a very likeable person, so they hadinvited him to join the DA.

Since the owl had arrived, Ron, Hermione and Harry had been working like crazy, trying to better their knowledge of investigative techniques and study their brains out for tests. The results of their studiousness had paid off, and Ron had alarmingly lifted his average up from eighty to eighty-five percent, just over the last few days. All of his professors were commenting on his papers, and some were even dubious that he had actually done the work himself, though none of them could prove it. The eighty-nine percent paper he'd written for Snape also had a large red 'SEE ME" written in the corner. Ron had seen him, and Snape had quizzed him thoroughly on the material, hoping to catch him cheating. He hadn't been able to.

It was alarming that Snape had corrected everyone's papers so quickly, especially with him looking so ill for the past week. Harry had to wonder if he'd even bothered to try marking the Gryffindor students down the way he normally did. Usually the papers he turned back to Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw had questionably low marks, but not this time. Harry had even gotten an eighty-four percent on his work. Hermione had achieved what must have been an all time high of any Gryffindor student in Potions. She'd gotten ninety-eight percent.

"We'll be in the auror academy before you know it." Hermione commented as the three of them made their way down to breakfast that Tuesday morning, Ron trying to shove his admired potions paper further down into his bag.

"But is it enough to get us into the top thirty percent of the Auror Academy?" Ron asked, sounding very much like Hermione as he did.

"I don't know." Harry answered honestly. "At least we have a little time to figure it all out."

They entered the great hall, and took their seats just as the flapping of wings announced the arrival of the mail owls.

Hedwig brought a letter for Harry, and he gave her an owl treat. "Thanks Hedwig!" She didn't hurry back off to the owlery, but stuck around, obviously looking for affection, and maybe a scrap of food or two.

Another large brown owl brought the prophet for Hermione, and she let it take a sip of her pumkin juice before it sailed back out one of the high windows of the great hall.

"Who's the letter from, Harry?" Ron asked, as Hermione settled herself in to read the paper. The article about Sirius had been out a week and a half earlier, and much to Harry's surprise, it had been very complimentary, even though the name 'Harry Potter' had been bandied about a little too much for his liking. He was only just getting over the stares.

"Remus." Harry answered. "He says he's going to be in Hogsmeade on the thirtieth."

They cracked grins at each other and Hedwig chirruped excitedly. "Yes, of course you can come too." Harry told her. "And Pig, and Crookshanks, but only if you stay quiet about it, and find your own way there"

She hooted indignantly.

"I know, of course you'll be able to find your own way there. I was just making conversation." He petted her ruffled feathers, and she nipped him affectionately on the wrist.

"Er…" Hermione interrupted, and put the paper down, her eyes filled with confusion. "I think I just found something."

"What is it?" Ron asked, leaning over her shoulder, to take a look for himself.

"It's not really anything big, it's just that there's an article here that looks a little suspicious."

"A little suspicious how?" Harry asked.

"Well, it's all about the Hogsmeade hunt. You should probably read it, then you'll understand."

**_The Rebuilding of Three Centuries; A Joke_**

_By Angela Downfish_

_The infamous Hogsmeade Hunt, which occurred just over three months ago utterly destroyed over three hundred years of wizarding history. In some instances, it even destroyed buildings and monuments older than that. An antique art exhibit had been taking place at the Hogsmeade Galleries, and seventeen priceless thousand-year-old pieces were lost when the building burned._

_Now that the rebuilding of Main Street is reaching its end, many people are skeptical about the town's record for keeping its citizens safe. As any member of the Hogsmeade historical society could tell you, the town was completely destroyed before, just over three hundred years ago in the goblin rebellion of 1678, and half demolished again during the rise of Grindelwald sixty-four years ago._

_Needless to say, the people of Hogsmeade are a little nervous._

"_Why are we building it all up now when we know it's just going to collapse again in the next hundred years?" asks Hogsmeade Historical Society president Jiggory Poeky. "Did you know that the only part of Hogsmeade that hasn't been demolished at leastsix times or more is Hogwarts itself?"_

_Many people who've lived in the town all their lives aredistrustful of the town's proximity to the Wizarding school since this attack was originally supposed to be centered on the school itself. "It's just not safe to have a town so close to abuilding that many Dark wizards consider the centre of the United Kingdom wizarding society." Poekycomments, offhand._

_Minister Fudge tells us that the town has been entirely safe for consumers and townspeople since a month ago, but is it? With the return of you-know-who, many people feel that labelling Hogsmeade as an entirelywizarding town, only paints a bullseye on the map for hostile Death-Eaters._

_I for one, don't see the benefits of visiting a dying town, and will be staying safely in London, where I can be certain the Aurors are nearby._

Harry looked up from the article, and eyed Hermione. "How'd she know the hunt was supposed to happen at Hogwarts?"

"Not only that" Hermione pointed out, "but how did she even know to call it the 'Hogsmeade Hunt'? That name, as far as I know, is only used by Death-Eaters and Order members. In fact, we should probably pay attention to our own use of the name. The wrong people might wonder who our contacts are if we aren't careful."

"Could this Angela Downfish be a member of either group?" Ron asked.

"She might, but I don't think she's a Death-Eater. She wouldn't be calling them 'hostile' if she were. It might be a way to mislead people, but I don't think so. It sounds almost accidental that she used that word."

"She sounds like she's a real history buff." Ron pointed out. "She wouldn't destroy all of those things bherself if she's that crazy about them, and Voldemort would have killed her for this type of talk if she were really a Death-Eater. It's sort of insulting to him isn't it?"

"Then she'san Order member?" Harry asked, trying to sort it all out in his mind.

"Possibly. I don't thinkshe should be telling everyone about this if that's true. Dumbledore should givehera warning." Hermione answered, shrugging her shoulders. "I think we would have known ifthisDownfish ladywas a member. It's more likely that she's getting her information from someone else.Probably someone in this Hogsmeade Historical Society."

Harry's eyes darted around the great hall. "Hermione, do you mind if I cut this up?" he asked, holding up the paper.

"No, go ahead."

Harry took his wand, and cast a silent severing charm to the paper. Ron laughed at the look of indignation he got from the witch on the opposite side of the page, whose advert for hair potion had now been chopped in half.

Harry spread the clipped article out before him, and pulled his quill, some blue ink, and an envelope out of his bag. He quickly underlined the important sections, and wrote, '_Member Info'_ in the margin. He folded up the article, and slipped it into the envelope.

"Hedwig? Can you take this to professor Dumbledore at some point when he's alone? Or maybe just leave it on his desk. Make sure no one else sees it."

She cooed, and stuck out her leg. Harry tied the note to her, and she made a sort of nodding salute, stole a piece of bacon –obviously this is what she had been waiting for all along– and flew off.

0 0 0 0 0

After classes for the day were over, Harry, Ron and Hermione tromped down the hill to Hagrid's hut once more to get an update on the Order's activities, and to ask him about the article in the prophet.

As they walked, Ron pointed towards the lake, where four students were playing a raucus game of evasion. None of them were in the DA, but they looked like they knew what they were doing. It was obvious that this was not the first time that they had played.

"Looks like your game has caught on." Harry commented, and Ron grinned proudly. He looked furtively at Hermione to see if she had noticed the game, but Hermione's attention was elsewhere. She seemed to be looking out into Hagrid's garden, and Harry couldn't quite see what had caught her eyes.

As soon as they were inside Hagrid's hut, Harry put a silencing charm up around the cabin.

"Hallo every one." Hagrid greeted, sounding quite pleased with something. "Come for some tea? Right then, come on."

"Hagrid? Was that Buckbeak I saw out in the yard? Hermione asked, sounding suspicious. Harry's eyebrows raised, and he and Ron went to go look out the window. The tall grey Hippogriff was indeed sunning himself out in Hagrid's pumpkin patch.

Hagrid grinned broadly. "Minister Fudge gave him a full pardon. He says you showed him in a pensieve or sommat." He gestured to Harry. "Said he wasn't as violent as they'd thought. Especially since Malfoy was the one who convinced them he was dangerous, and he's shown himself to be a Death-Eater."

"Oh, yeah, I guess I did." Harry said, feeling relieved, and pleased that Hagrid had his 'pet' back.

"Malfoy's not going to like this." Ron said, licking his lips and rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

"Right then, what did you want to know?" Hagrid asked.

"Hasn't professor Dumbledore spoken to you about the article in the prophet?" Harry asked, confused.

"How'd you know about that?"

Harry furrowed his brow. "What do you mean, 'how did we know'? We were the ones who sent it!"

Hagrid's eyes widened. "Oh! That makes sense now! I'll have to tell the headmaster!"

"What?" Harry asked. "He didn't know who it was from? Didn't he recognize Hedwig?"

"I didn't ask him about the owl that delivered the letter, that mighta told us a wee more. I'm not even sure he saw the owl. I think she must've just left it on his desk or sommat. We thought someone was threatenin' us!"

"You thought it was a threat?" Hermione said, beginning to laugh.

"Sorry Hagrid." Harry said, grinning sheepishly.

"Well, what were we supposed to think?" Hagrid asked, putting the kettle over the fire. "We're sent an unmarked letter, that has an article with important Order information underlined like someone was tellin'us 'we know everything you know, and we know who you are,' or sommat." He shook his bushy head, and rolled his eyes. "Makes me breathe a little easier now knowing it was just you lot."

"Except," Hermione interrupted, "for that little bit about some writer for the prophet having information about when the attack was _supposed _to happen, and what the Death-Eaters are calling it."

"That's only to be expected." Hagrid explained. "A person tells another person something that they don't think is important, and soon the whole world knows."

"Yes, but if there's a person leaking Order information to the prophet, don't you think we have a right to know who it is?" Hermione complained.

"Sure," Hagrid mumbled, pulling the boiling kettle back up off the hearth, "but that lady, Downfish, isn't a member, and without asking her outright, there's no way of knowing where she got her information."

"I guess as long as people don't know who she's talked to, then it can't hurt."

"There's no other obvious connection between the Order of the Phoenix and the Prophet is there?"

"Not that I know. I'll double check with Dumbledore." Hagrid promised.

"That's all we ask." Harry nodded, and sipped at his tea.

"So, Harry. Stick around for awhile afterwards, and we'll have another go ay?"

Harry noticeably shrunk in his seat. "I don't think-"

"Come on, Harry." Hagrid interrupted. "You need to keep up your practice. Dumbledore wants you to be completely able to control it."

"I know, I just don't feel comfortable trying to break into your mind all the time like this. Don't you ever get a headache?"

"Nope. Mostly it's just a tired feeling, like I've had a really long and stressful day. But there's no pain."

That didn't reallymatch with Harry's experience of Legilimency, but he assumed that because of his scar, he had something about him that made the comparison impossible. "Are you sure you don't mind?"

Hagrid wavedthe comment off."Not at all."

"We'll just go back to the Gryffindor common room." Hermione said, taking Ron by the arm, and depositing her half-empty tea. "We'll just let you two practice by yourselves."

They left Harry and Hagrid alone in the hut.

0 0 0 0 0

"I don't think it's doing what it's supposed to do." Harry blinked and looked up at Hagrid in frustration.

"Wha?" Hagrid grumbled. "You're not doing it right or something?"

"Well, every time I've done this with you, I get the same results." Harry griped. "I get inside your head, and I can sense who you are as a person, but I can't seem to pick up any of your memories. I'm almost certain that there's another way to do this."

Hagrid wrinkled his nose, completely unfazed by Harry's posession of him not moments before.

"What am I doing wrong?" Harry asked aloud to the cabin walls, but Hagrid seemed to think that Harry was asking him.

"I'm prob'ly not the best one for you to ask, Harry. Best to see professor Snape about this." He shook his head sadly. "You've got me stumped. I don't think I can help you any more than I just have."

Harry felt a twinge of regret go through him about the sort of magic he had just performed on his friend. "Thanks anyhow Hagrid. I know it's not nice to be forgetting some of the things you've done, or even losing a certain amount of time in your memories. You've been a real help."

Hagrid grinned. "Any time. You just let me know when you find out the answer."

"I will."

"Right, best go on and find professor Snape as soon as possible then. Just don't let anyone see that you're talking to him. He's in enough hot water as it is without the wrong people thinking you're on speaking terms."

"All right, I will. Thanks."

Harry scurried out the door to catch up to his friends.

He was reluctant to approach Snape at dinner that night, and Ron and Hermione seemed to sense that there was something going on with him.

"You nervous for a reason, Harry? Or do we have some sort of test coming up that I haven't heard about?" Ron poked him in the arm, and Harry jumped back in alarm. Ron gave him a funny look.

Harry looked furtively at the staff table.

Snape was looking paler than usual, and the only dish he had before him was a bowl of chicken soup. The liquid splashed from his spoon as his hand shook.

He avoided looking at the students, and especially the Gryffindor table.

"No, No test." Harry answered. "I just have something to do that I'm not really looking forward to."

"Well, you know what to do mate."

"Huh?"

Ron's gaze flitted between Harry and Snape. "Get it over with. The sooner you deal with it, the sooner it'll be out of your mind."

Harry had to grin. "Fat lot you know." He teased.

Ron shrugged. "He's not looking like he's ready to argue with anyone."

"He's certainly going to try."

The rest of the students slowly filed out of the hall, and Harry saw Snape push back his chair, using the backrest to balance himself as he stood.

It was now, or never.

Harry quickly slipped out of his chair, and up past the staff table, where Snape stood, looking very uncomfortable and glassy eyed.

Harry just mumbled his request as he walked past the table. "Professor Snape, I need to ask you a question regarding my kneadwort essay." He lifted his head, and looked over at the Gryffindor table, as though he was distracted.

Snape didn't even have the strength to snarl, so he just followed Harry placidly out of the hall at a slight distance.

This time most of the students didn't see what was happening, since Snape was so far behind, and Harry was mixed up with a large group of Hufflepuffs that had stood up at the same time. Only Ron and Hermione seemed to be able to grasp the intricate arrangement.

Professor Firenze pretended not to see either of them as they walked into his classroom, and he walked out, looking absently up at the stars of his ceiling.

Harry closed the door, and turned toSanpe. "Sir, I need to know how to look into people's minds properly."

Snape smirked, his posture greatly improved from that of just a moment before. "From what I've heard, that wasn't supposed to be too difficult for you."

"No, I mean I need to learn how to look into people's pasts." Harry mumbled. "I can occupy someone's mind, and see what sorts of things they feel, but I can't see their pasts."

"I should have thought the way would be obvious, but perhaps I can see why _you_ would have missed the point."

Harry began to get a little frustrated. "Why would it be obvious, _sir_?"

"Because that is the little thingof which I spent so many wasted hours trying to show you last year."

"Didn't do a very good job now, did you?"

"Pardon me, Potter?" Snape snapped, looking as thought he very much wanted to wring Harry's neck, but hadn't the stomach or the energy for it.

Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down enough to have a rational conversation. "And what was the 'little thing' that you seem to think that I have missed?"

"The obvious 'little thing' that your absolutely dense mind has overlooked, is the spoken spell."

"Pardon?" Harry asked, trying not to react to being called 'dense'.

"The spoken spell Potter! The act of calling out your intentions to your wand!"

"Is it necessary?" Harry asked, confused. "I've never used it."

"In order to look into past experiences, it is! Otherwise you just get the result you've mentioned! How absolutely typical of you."

Harry's anger flared, and he desperately tried to tamp it down within himself. This was no time to fly off the handle.

Snape continued, oblivious to Harry's boiling rage. "Whenever I wanted to read into someone's past, I say the word 'Legilimens' while pointing my wand. To protect myself from the same, I use the counter shield-"

"Occlumens." Harry answered, the whole idea and simplicity of it falling into his mind, and drowning him with silent rage. "Why didn't you tell me this last year, when I was trying to actually _learn _this?"

Snape looked at him pityingly. "So you could let your poor insufficient brain work out the obvious rules on their own."

"They were not obvious!" Harry nearly shrieked. "If I had known the counter charm way back then, I could have understood something about it, and Sirius would still be alive!"

"All the more reason for you to have practiced more often, and paid attention to what I was trying to show you."

Harry felt all of the anger leave him very suddenly, as if his brain had been filled with a noisily tuning orchestra, and suddenly it was completely silent before the real performance came. He didn't really know what was happening or why, but he knew what he wanted to do with it.

He gazed directly into Snape's confident eyes, and without pointing his wand, he muttered, "_Legilimens."_ A strange sensation of power fell over him, and in the back of his mind, Harry realized that he had just performed wandless magic without a single emotional thought, since he knew that Legilimency worked best when he distanced himself from his emotions. Remus was correct in saying that it got easier with time.

Snape's suddenly blank eyes flashed with millions of images, and Harry could pick and choose which one he wanted to observe.

He chose ruthlessly, only then realizing how Snape had taken it _easy_ on him last year by picking _relatively _pointless things to spy on during occlumency lessons, even though Harry hadn't exactly thought they were pointless back then.

_He stood in the middle of the torture room in Death-Eater headquarters._

_An old man lay before him on the floor, and and he was groaning and crying out in pain. Harry had his wand out, and was ready to attack the poor muggle once more._

_Torture on muggles was something anyone could do. It was imperative that he not cause irreparable harm to this man, or else the obliviators wouldn't have much of a job left. So far, he'd been easy on him. Too easy for the Dark Lord's liking._

_Harry still shook quite a bit as he drove metaphorical thumbtacks deep into the fleshy part of his victim's feet. The man was growing hoarse from screaming._

_A disembodied creaking voice rose from his left. "I have your word that you didn't take down those wards, butthis is all that I have from you. If you are telling the truth, then you will show me how loyal a servant you are, how honest a servant. You will kill him."_

_Whatever there was left of Harry's heart wilted, but he strove not to show his grief to his master. He did not want to kill ever again. Killing was for monsters like his master, and for the poor innocent sods who mistakenly gave him their allegiance. Poor sods like the one he had once been twenty years ago. Murder was not as appealing for a grown man who taught young children how to mix up potions. It was not expected of a professor._

_The man didn't deserve this, but unfortunately, this one life was incredibly insubstantial to the cause. Although he hated killing, he would do whatever was needed to regain the Dark lord's favour. People were counting on him to do this. They ought to know that as long as he was 'officially' working for the dark side, he was a danger to both the good and the bad. He would do what was necessary. Then later, when the war was over and Voldemort dead, he could kill himself, or hope that someone else would perform the deed. He wouldn't really mind being killed by Lucius..._

_At least it wasn't a wizard he was torturing. As much as he hated to admit it, Muggles were easier. At least, that was the excuse he had used twenty years previous. The excuse had significantly less effect on his strength of will now than it had before._

_"Are you afraid?" The horrible voice asked, sensing his hesitation._

_"No, my lord. I simply dislike the idea of death." Harry answered._

_A crack of pain sliced into his cheek, andhe brought his hands to his face to investigate. Blood covered his hands, and he felt some trickle down his chin and into his robes. His master had only moved his wand an inch, yet it felt like he was being stabbed in the face over and over again with hot pokers._

_He felt like laughing, even through his pain. How appropriate that he should now have blood on his hands. _

_How very amusing that it was his own._

_"Death is nothing to a filthy muggle! They are hardly alive to begin with! Kill him!" His master ordered, more forcefully this time, his wand twitching again. Harry knew a kill or be killed scenario when he saw one. He thought longingly of the hidden phoenix portkey chain he had around his neck, but he could not use it here and now. Not before the Dark Lord. He could expose everything the Order stood for, and get himself killed in the process._

_That must not happen until the war was over._

_So he lifted his wand, summoned open the long-locked vault of hate he hid within himself, and called out the curse, may dementors take his rotting soul._

_"Avada-"_

_"Occlumens!"_


	33. To Kill or Be Killed

A/N: I want to apologise for the many 'spacing' problems I've had with this story. I know for a fact that it's not my space bar, and I edit things immediately before posting, so there really shouldn't be any problems. I guess it's complicated.(So Laura,there you go! I HAVE BEEN EDITING PROPERLY, AND IT'S NOT MY FAULT!)

Broomstick Bumper Sticker Disclaimer: If you can read this, back off! You're about to be hexed!

**Chapter Thirty-three – **

**To Kill or Be Killed**

"_Occlumens!"_

Snape collapsed to the floor as Harry's mind was thrown violently away.

Harry stood gazing blankly at the shivering form of his professor. He was watching a replay of the events the week before unfurling on the forest floor of professor Firenze's classroom. Snape gasped, and choked as if he were about to throw up. Somehow, he was able to hold down the bile, and he sat back on his heels, putting his arms around his stomach.

Harry could completely understand the feeling, since he'd just experienced the same things as Snape, and the bile had risen in his own throat as well.

It took him a second to realise that that the things he had just seen, were in fact _Snape's _memories from the night the Minister was captured and tortured, and not his own.

Snape had killed a man.

An innocent man.

_A muggle._

Harry crouched down to his professor's level, staying a good distance away in case Snape actually found the energy to lash out at him. "Did you tell professor Dumbledore about this?" He asked quietly.

It took Snape a moment to grasp the meaning of the words. He looked both angry and completely distraught. He was unable at this moment, to retaliate in the way he wished. Harry could feel the pain wanting to lash out, to strike him down.

Indeed, Snape was unable to lie to Harry about anything either, and he knew it. "No."

"Then perhaps this may be the root of your recent illness?" Harry asked, feeling strangely as though he had something in common with Snape. _Kill or be killed. _It was a question of survival now.

Snape growled in return.

"Just so you realize," Harry continued, ignoring the potion's master's reaction, "the act of getting something off your chest is immensely satisfying and also very rewarding in its own way. I know you don't want anyone to know, but I urge you to tell Dumbledore. Let him see what you saw. Let him feel what you felt."

"You aren't going to tell him?" Snape asked, sounding as if he were in pain.

"I'm sorry for doing that. I know it was wrong, but I'm far too curious to leave something alone. I wanted to know for my own horrible selfish reasons. It's not something I should know, and I promise that I won't be telling anyone else."

Snape simply nodded, still not looking up from the dusty forest floor. He looked immensely defeated, and Harry had to catch himself, before the pity crept in. He didn't want to be a hypocrite.

"I'm going to forget what I saw." Harry said, "But only if you tell Dumbledore, and let him deal with the consequences. You shouldn't have to, since he was the one who asked you to be our spy. He was the one who put you into that position. He is the only one who can take responsibility."

Harry stood there, waiting and watching as Snape slowly gathered his wits about him.

"Try it on me." The statement burst from Harry's lips before he realized what he was saying.

"What?" Snape looked confused, and Harry decided no to reneg on the offer.

"Try it on me. Use legilimency. I have something to show you."

Seeing a rare chance, Snape took a deep breath, gathered his waning strength and raised his wand, pointing it at Harry. _"Legilimens!"_

A long stream of memories flew through Harry's head. They were all memories specifically chosen by Harry, since it seemed that Snape had no control over his power.

Harry showed him an image of Fudge, crying out in fear, begging for mercy.

He showed him Bellatrix, a blooming shadow of red behind vacant eyes and shuddering limbs.

He showed Percy, mouth open wide, screaming in agony with no sound escaping.

Much to his grief, he showed Sirius, flying through the air, a look of mortal terror and surprise in his eyes.

He showed Cedric Diggory, and his senseless death._"Kill the spare."_

He ended the stream of memory with a vague recollection of his mother's voice. _"No, please… Not Harry! Please no, take me, kill me instead!"_

"_Stand aside, you silly girl… Stand aside now!"_

A flash of green, and Harry felt Snape's concentration falter. He let the connection fall silent, saying the incantation in his head.

Snape just shivered once, letting his wand drop to the floor and putting his waxy face into his shuddering hands.

"Some people say that I haven't the strength to be a part of this." Harry explained. "Every time I see a dementor, images like these repeat themselves through my mind, and they become so intense that I black out. Without a doubt, I would do horrible things to make it so that no one else should suffer like that. Part of being noble requires a certain amount of sheer gut."

Snape nodded weakly, reluctantly understanding Harry's reasons for showing him the memories.

"After seeing what I have seen, can you deny that I have earned the right to be able to chose my allegiances for this war?"

Snape shook his head.

"And you have chosen yours based on your experiences." Harry explained simply. "You have a noble streak inside you somewhere professor. Your skills have made you a dangerous target. Don't let that fact interfere with the strength of your soul."

Harry could see that Snape hadn't even the energy to tell him to leave.

Harry walked out of the classroom, feeling both saddened, and relieved. He was amazed to think that even though he had been very underhanded in his methods, perhaps he had just struck some sort of compromise with one of his rivals.

0 0 0 0 0

The next day's potions class would show him how wrong he was, as Snape was more surly and negative to him than ever. Harry couldn't help but think that the potions master had hit an all time low with his quest for vengeance. Didn't he see that they were in the same boat? Didn't he see that the war was affecting them _both_? That they were both in danger of not only being killed, but of _murdering?_

"Potter! Longbottom! I said FOUR roots, not THREE, and I'd thank you to listen to my instructions! Ten points from Gryffindor!" Harry very nearly threw the fourth root that he'd been about to add at the professor, but managed to restrain himself when he reminded himself that the root would be no good to his potion if he threw it away.

Snape did look quite a bit relieved of his former gauntness, and his angry expression had a bit more power behind it than there had been before. Harry only had to assume that he had told Dumbledore about the incident with the muggle, and that Dumbledore had forgiven him in some way, or had found a way to relieve him of the terrible burden of guilt.

"Mr.Malfoy, just what do you think you're doing?! Vanish that vile concoction at once! I will not have my classroom smelling like a rotting kneazle carcass! Look at this! It's just pure mould! Five points from Slytherin!"

Harry had to whip his head around to get a good look at Malfoy. He'd never heard Snape take points off his own house before. It seemed absurd to hear the words coming out of the professor's mouth.

Snape rounded on him, once he had noticed his curious stare. "Potter, pay attention to your own cauldron before it explodes!"

Harry shrugged. At least there were no more points deducted. He'd already lost fifty for Gryffindor in this class alone. People _had_ to wonder why every time Harry had a Potions class, the number of points Gryffindor held would always drop. It was pretty noticeable.

Harry took a quick look behind him, and observed Snape, who was bent over Malfoy's now empty cauldron, helping him reassemble all of the required ingredients to begin brewing all over again.

He had to do a double take.

Malfoy looked absolutely terrible.

Harry remembered that Malfoy had a hard time speaking to anyone or eating solid foods for a few weeks after his mastication charm attack on him just before Christmas. He'd looked bad then, but he was long over that. This was something much worse.

Malfoy was gaunt and pale, and looked quite a bit like the he'd been hit with a slug vomiting charm. He was sweating profusely and shaking uncontrollably. He didn't look at all well, and it seemed that Snape had only just realized this, and was trying to make him feel better by helping him out after his biting remarks.

Although Malfoy was quite obviously physically ill, it was only when Harry compared his appearance to that of Snape that something clicked. Although Snape's attention was back where it was supposed to be, he still had that same gaunt look of perpetual anguish that would perhaps never leave him completely. Malfoy looked the same.

Malfoy had done something wrong, and it was eating at him the same way Snape's concsience had, making him physically sick. Harry could clearly see the worry lines etched into Malfoy's face, which matched those of Snape. Harry wondered just what Malfoy had done that warranted this anguish. He mentally backtracked a little, when he reminded himself that Malfoy had never showed signs of guilt before.

_Sincewhen did Draco Malfoyhave anything even remotely resemblinga conscience?_

Snape turned his head a little to the side, and Harry quickly brought his gaze back to the cauldron in front of him. It was bubbling a little, and starting to turn a light mauve colour. Harry quickly threw in two hastily prepared turtle hearts, and the pale yellow colour returned to the liquid. It was a bit thicker than he'd intended, but it was too late to gripe about it.

He returned his attention to Snape and Malfoy, and something else caught his eye. Snape's hands were shaking as he tried to help Malfoy chop up a small pile of beetles.

Harry wondered if perhaps he might end up with the same physical control issues after he killed Voldemort. Would he throw up at the thought that he had killed someone? Would he feel that horrible sense of loss when the act was performed? How could he possibly live with himself if he released his anger with such a horrible unforgiveable curse?

He realised that Snape's reaction was probably going to be a little different than his own. _Snape had killed an innocent. _Harry would never need to do that, since the murder he was prophecized to commit or die trying, was not that of an innocent man.

If they were to compare emotional turmoil in the end, Snape had to be much stronger than Harry would have to be. Harry nearly kicked himself when he realised that his thoughts were actually turning _respectful _of Snape.

It was as he was busy analysing the guilty Malfoy and Snape, that Harry's cauldron finally exploded.

When Gryffindor lost another fifty points, Harry's only thought was that perhaps he should have chucked the root at Snape after all.

0 0 0 0 0

Harry trudged up the steps to Trelawney's classroom at eight that evening, silently ruing the day he had ever consented to giving the professor extra lessons. She hadn't really done anything in the way of advancing since she'd begun. Mostly because she just didn't agree with anything he said, and felt honour-bound to argue every point with him. She'd just never had much of a chance to see a person using these spells.

He knocked, and much to his surprise, professor Vector's voice yelled out to him.

"Come on in!"

He poked his head through the trapdoor.

"Come in, Mister Potter! There's no reason to be shy!" Professor Vector emphasized enthusiastically. She was sitting on one of the pouffes with a clipboard in one hand, and a quill in the other. Harry was horribly reminded of the dreaded professor Umbridge and her clipboard of doom, before he took a closer look, and realized that the two teachers looked and acted nothing alike. Professor Umbridge had been short and squat, with an awful scowling grin that reminded a person of a gigantic toad. Professor Vector was taller and slim, with a genuine overenthusiatic smile, and her long grey braid placed over her shoulder. It was just the appearance of the clipboard that sent Harry into spasms of stress.

Professor Trelawney was sitting at her desk, but rose when Harry entered the room and drew her wand.

"Welcome mister Potter." She said regally in a low voice, that sounded as if she should have been calling him 'professor Potter'. Harry felt distinctly awkward.

"Sybil tells me you've been giving her lessons!" professor Vector yelled, harshly countering the low even tones of professor Trelawney.

"Yes, I have." Harry nodded.

"How much free time do you have?! Could you teach me too?! I'd like to watch and take notes! You won't even notice I'm here!"

Harry sighed with doubtful exasperation. What was it with everyone wanting lessons from him? He'd already made it clear that he was teaching Trelawney for extra marks. She'd basically told him he had to make up for his disrespectful attitudes in her class. What would he be teaching Vector for?

"I've already got quite a full schedule, what with quidditch, and the DA, but if you'd like to observe…"

"The DA?" Trelawney cut in. "What's that?"

Harry's lips tightened into a thin line. After all the times he'd beaten the secrecy rule into his members heads, and he was the one to let it slip? What the heck was wrong with him today?

"It's nothing." He answered evasively. "I shouldn't have said anything."

"Is it that secret duelling club I've heard about?!" Vector cut in excitedly. "I didn't think it really existed!" She must have overheard someone talking about it in the staff room.

Harry couldn't see any way out. "Do you promise not to reveal this to anyone?" he looked into Vector's eyes, checking for the truth.

"Of course!" She was being honest.

"And you?" he asked Trelawney.

"I shan't say a word." She was also telling the truth, so he explained.

"The 'duelling club' that you've heard about is actually a Defense group called Dumbledore's Army."

"What a barbaric title." Trelawney frowned.

"It's so EXCITING!" Vector exploded.

"We meet sporadically in secret, and we work only on learning the things we need to survive if we are ever set upon by Death-Eaters."

"How noble!" Vector sighed dramatically.

"How pessimistic." Professor Trelawney squinched up her face in disgust.

Harry knew he really shouldn't explain more than that, but he should have known that Vector wouldn't leave it at that. "Could we observe this DA?" She asked, for the first time speaking in something of a normal tone.

"I'm afraid I couldn't let you-"

"–Of course you could!" she interrupted. "People like us need the practice!"

"But…" Harry paused, thinking carefully. It certainly would clear up his schedule if he could get Trelawney practising with the DA instead of having separate lessons. She was sure to improve when she saw the way the students were training. And having professor Vector there probably wouldn't make her feel like an outcast.

"Are you sure you want to be practising with a bunch of students?" he asked them both sceptically.

Trelawney sighed. "I was suspicious of many of the students when they showed that they were far more advanced than I'd expected. A few of my first years were even beginning to frighten me. Now I see why. Can you honestly say we're any better at this than they are?" Trelawney asked, sounding resigned.

"Well… Not really." Harry hoped his honesty wouldn't crush her.

Trelawney only looked resigned. "Then why should we worry about practising alongside others who are obviously good role models?"

Vector grinned. "Exactly my point!"

"It would be a little easier on my schedule if I could get you involved there, rather than extra lessons here." Harry admitted.

"RIGHT!" Vector shouted, as if that were the answer she needed. "When are the meetings?!"

0 0 0 0 0

Harry had an extensive consultation and training session that evening with his assistants in the DA. Most of them were surprised to hear that Harry had been tutoring Trelawney, since he hadn't really wanted to tell too many people about it. Ron and Hermione knew, but the rest of them made a few cracks about it. They all agreed that if nothing else, the teachers joining the DA could give everyone a good laugh.

The next DA meeting was scheduled for two days later, and it was with some trepidation that he led the two nervous-looking professors down the seventh floor hall and into the Room of Requirement.

He'd asked them to meet him, not in the room itself, since he didn't want to explain too much, but down in the Great Hall, so he could lead them there.

"What are they doing here!?" Mark shouted, looking alarmed that there were now teachers in the room.

"Hello everyone. Much to my astonishment, I'd like to welcome two new members to the DA." Harry said wryly. "For the next hour and a half, they are going to be observing and participating whenever they can. When they are in this room, don't think of them as teachers, but as more esteemed members of the DA."

"Are you the leader then?" Trelawney asked him, and laughter rolled about the room.

"As if it would be anyone else?!" Vector said, joining in.

Harry blushed. "Hermione, have you got any more coins?"

Hermione moved over to her bag, and pulled out two extra fake galleons, handing them to the teachers, and giving them a cursory explanation of how they worked.

"All right," Harry began, "Everyone pair off into fours, and play evasion for a minute while I explain secrecy rules and give the professors an idea of what they're in for."

People moved off, and began to shoot spells at each other, dodging the shots and looking altogether very daring.

Trelawney gasped at the sight.

Harry grinned. "You didn't believe me did you?"

She shook her head, and remained silent.

"All right." Harry cleared his throat. "We all work at different levels, but if there's something someone wants to know, we'll try and work on it together. Anything you see a more advanced student doing is free for questions to be asked. The group seems to function under the rule that information is for everyone, and you learn the best when you teach others. If you want to see how a certain spell is cast, just ask anyone. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Luna and Hannah are my official assistants, so if other people are uncertain when you ask, you can go to them. Be prepared to know a spell or a position well enough in order to show any beginner student. Any questions?"

"Are they all just going to keep hexing each other?" Trelawney asked, wincing at the sight.

"They're only trying to disarm each other. Just watch for a second, and you'll get the hang of it."

"It's a game!" Vector said enthusiastically after observing for another minute.

"It is for now." Harry admitted.

They watched evasion for a while longer, before professor Vector was nearly hopping from foot to foot in her eagerness to try.

In the end, they weren't too bad. Not as good as the advanced students, but they had a bit of advantage over the younger ones in that they had been alive for much longer. They both still had shoddy aim, but Vector had a pretty powerful punch to her disarming charms, and she was fun to try and hex, because she would shriek loudly every time a spell got even close to her.

Once he felt they'd spent enough time playing evasion, Harry took them through a body and wand warm up he'd seen in the Auror's handbook that they called the 'Wand Salute'. In it were fourty different sequential wand motions, and ten basic protection shields. Harry had already covered these with everyonethis year, but he had never thought of putting it together as a sort of dance sequence.

He'd showed the Wand Salute to his assistant teachers earlier, and now theywalked between the rows of students, adjusting grips, moving arms and feet, and explaining the specifics of certain shield charm pronunciations. Hermione had commented that the Salutewas a sort of Yoga, and until they explained it to him, Ron had thought she was insulting Harry. Harry had laughed then, but seeing it now being done by the whole group, Harry thought it was much more Karate-like than Yoga-like. The Wand Salute was a very mathematical and regimental movement, and Harry could even see the teachers sweating a bit after they'd only gone through the whole sequence twice.

The idea of the Wand Salute was to be able to move through the sequence without pausing, and without having to think about it. It was for mental balance as well as physical and magical control. Ifsomeonereached the end of the Wand Salute, and had done everything properly, then their aura would glow brightly for a couple of seconds. Harry had actually done it a few times, but no one had been nearby to let him know what his aura looked like, and the students today were just learning the sequence, so they hadn't hadany luckshowing theiraura at the end. Harry encouraged them to practice on their own, since having other people around made concentration more difficult at first.

Since no one was trying to attack anyone while they performed the Salute shield charms, professor Trelawney was a lot more agreeable to the motionsthan she'd ever been to any defensive maneuver before. She looked a lot more in control of herself when she was sure that it was only an exercise, and not an attack. Harry wondered why he'd never thought of something like this for her before. It was a start.

For the rest of the meeting, Harry had everyone move on to the simpler imaging charms, with which the attacker could make their opponents see double or sometimes triple if you put enough power into it.

The meeting ended with both professors having improved quite a bit, and Harry could see a bit more spark of enthusiasm in Trelawney's eyes even though they were still a little crossed in the end.

The other students were even a little inspired by having the professors there. It allowed them to believe that what they were learning today might indeed be something they could use later on in their lives.

It was much better than he ever could have hoped for.

0 0 0 0 0

"Professor McGonagall, might I borrow Potter, Weasley and Granger for a moment?" Professor Dumbledore stuck his head into their Wizarding Home class.

McGonagall pulled herself out from beneath the car she had conjured, and stood up to wipe the grease from her hands and wand onto her plaid smock.

She seemed to be having a lot more fun in their class ever since she had begun the section they were studying, which was 'simple mechanical repair'. It had become apparent in this class that professor McGonagall's alter ego was 'miss fix-it'. Mostly, she was just having fun poking her wand at malfunctioning muggle technology, and getting it to work the way it was supposed to without using a wrench or another tool. The results of her experiments were quite interesting sometimes. Ron was impressed that anyone could actually make muggle technology _work_, since his father had only ever had a knack for researching something to death, and then promptly breaking it when he went to try and fix it. Arthur Weasley had always been obsessed with Muggles and Muggle culture. Professor McGonagall was more obsessed with technology in general, and it so happened that she was good with her wand when it came to such things. She explained to them thatrepair was another offshoot of transfiguration, which made sense.

"Sure." McGonagall leaned over to help the three of them out from under the car, and they too, cleaned their oily hands and wands on their smocks.

As soon as they had left the class, Dumbledore placed Rowena Ravenclaw's book carefully back into Hermione's now clean hands.

"A very interesting read I assure you." He told them. "I'm sorry I didn't return it to you sooner, but there was quite a bit of history in there that I needed to use as a reference for a certain project I've been working on."

"Did you find out why some people can open it and some can't?" Ron asked, sounding hopeful.

"I did, but I will not be telling you."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "Why?" she asked, sounding slightly indignant.

"The book will tell you why you are able to read it. It seems that it is… different for everyone."

"But I can't even read the thing!" Hermione complained.

"Yes, that would be make sense."

Hermione growled.

"Miss Granger, if Mister Potter or Mister Weasley wish to tell you about this, it is their business. I will not interfere."

She didn't look happy as they returned to class, and kept eyeing the book angrily.

0 0 0 0 0

Later that evening, Harry, Ron and Neville sat up late in the otherwise empty Gryffindor dormitory. Seamus had taken Lavender up to the astronomy tower to 'look at the stars', and Dean was apparently down in the kitchens bleeding the house elves dry of all of their food after a long afternoon of studying. Hermione had stomped off in a huff when Ron told her they should probably check it out on their own first.

Rowena Ravenclaw's book sat between the three boys, and they stroked the first page open.

They each read the first page silently over Harry's shoulder, and when Harry was finished, he asked them if he could turn the page yet.

"Just a sec." Neville told him. "Okay go."

The next page turned, and they read on.

The story was well written, with intrigue and depth. Rowena Ravenclaw made everything personal and very emotional. She had a steady wit that was quite pleasant, but she didn't cut out any dark details of the storyline. Apparently this book was written not as a history of the school, as _'Hogwarts; A History' _was, but as a tale of the personal lives of the four founders. It went into much more detail about family life and the political intrigue of the time than _'Hogwarts; A History'_ ever did.

They made it halfway through the book before they saw even a glimpse of what Dumbledore had been talking about.

They had come across a small watercolour self-portrait of Rowena Ravenclaw when she looked to be about twenty years old. She had long brown hair, which she kept in a braid that wrapped around and around her head, a smooth complexion, and red lips. She wore a blue robe, and a copper coloured shawl.

"She's a real looker, isn't she?" Ron commented.

"Why, I thank you!" The painting said, laughing, and Harry nearly dropped the book. For some reason he'd forgotten that wizarding paintings could move about and talk to people. Ron and Neville gave him odd glances.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"It is good to see new faces," she mumbled in old English, catching everyone's attention again. "Behove me to have made 't simpler to read. Perhaps then I might see more folk passing."

"So are you going to tell us the secret to this book?" Harry asked her. "Why it opens for us, and not for others?"

She eyed each one of them in turn, analysing their faces. "It's not my place." She told them sadly. "I have seen the one who is mine, and there are only few others. You shall have to keep reading."

"One who is yours?" Neville asked, confused. "Your what?"

She shook her head. "I keep my secrets young master." She indicated the edge of the spine, in an attempt to get them to keep going.

"Good book by the way." Ron told her.

"Well, aren't you dashing." She told him. "And don't ask me about anything that happened after this chapter. I know nothing of my own death, and I won't tell you anything more until you have read to the end."

So they kept reading.

They came across another picture some ten pages later. This one was of a tall thin man in green robes. His eyes were dark, and his hair was slick and black. He wore a scowl on his lips that said he had not wanted to be painted, but had stood for the portrait anyhow, likely under duress. Harry was horribly reminded of Snape.

It was Slytherin.

"Ah, I see there are more." He said to them smoothly.

"Are you going to tell us the secret of this book?" Ron asked, sounding as if he knew the painting would say no, but he had to ask.

"Nay." Slytherin said forcefully. "I would not if I could."

"Slimy git." Ron said, quickly reaching over to turn the page as Slytherin frowned at him.

There, on the next page stood Gryffindor.

He looked a lot like Slytherin actually. Black hair, although it was much less well groomed, and black eyes that looked as if they saw everything. He wore red robes that were trimmed in gold. Ron grinned as if he thought he had already come to the right place.

As soon as Gryffindor noticed the three people staring at him, he raised his sword to eye level pointing it at them.

"Who goes there?" He asked. "Be you friend or foe?"

"Er…" said Harry.

"Ah, yes!" He said, suddenly looking like he recognised Harry. "I'm the one you should ask."

"All right." Ron said, "What's the secret to the book?"

"No, no, not you." Gryffindor waved his hand at Ron. "You are to find out later. Get thee gone."

"Huh?" Ron looked blank. He'd obviously expected this to be it.

"I shall only tell the secret to these two. You are uninvited."

"Fine." Ron huffed, and pushed away from the bed. "See if I ask you anything ever again." He flopped down on his bed beside Harry's.

"So what's the secret?" Neville asked in a whisper, looking suspicious.

"You're related to me." Gryffindor whispered back proudly.

"What?" Harry gaped.

"You two have my blood running in your veins, and you are true Gryffindors. That's why you can read this book, and that's why I'm the one to tell you the secret."

Harry smiled broadly. He looked over at Neville. "Er… What does this mean for us?" he gestured between the two of them, and Gryffindor laughed. Ron scowled at them from his bed.

"Cousins!" Gryffindor said happily under his breath. "Not really close ones, but cousins nonetheless."

Harry suddenly felt an intense urge to cry.

He had more family.

Family that cared.

He turned his head a little, so Neville wouldn't see his distress, and regrouped quickly.

"You're related to my eldest." Gryffindor pointed to Harry. "My daughter. And you are born of my middle child, my eldest son." He pointed to Neville. "So you see that it is not a close relationship."

Harry shrugged. "It doesn't matter how close." He grinned at Neville.

"Not only that," Gryffindor continued. "I am also allowed to tell you all of the secrets of this castle. –Only the ones that I know, I am not privy to secrets the others might hold. It is up to you if you are to share this information," he told them, "but we would prefer if it was kept among family."

"Thank you." Harry gulped a lump out of his throat.

"Ron, you've got to read this!" Neville yelled.

"What? Are you going to tell me what he told you?" Ron asked acerbically.

Harry shook his head. "I understand why Dumbledore didn't want to tell us. It's different for everyone!" He laughed, and handed the open book to Ron. "She said that she'd seen the one who is hers already!"

Neville snapped his fingers and pointed to Harry in agreement. "Sharp, very sharp."

Ron seemed a little offput by the image of a smirking Gryffindor staring up at him, so he turned the page quickly.

Three pages later, sat an image of Helga Hufflepuff. She wore yellow robes, and had plucked daisies that were woven into her long strawberry blonde braid. She was a little plump, but not overly so.

"Hello." She blinked, batted her eyes as if just waking, and immediately Harry knew what she was going to tell Ron.

"Can you tell me the secret of this book?" Ron asked.

Harry grinned at Neville.

His cousin.

"I most certainly can, young man." She answered. "Do they know?" she asked him pointing to Harry and Neville, and Ron scowled.

"They say that they do, but they won't tell me."

"Well, you must understand that it was not their place to tell. That is my job. Besides which, I really enjoy the telling. I couldn't keep a secret like this if I tried. That is why Rowena put me last. Were I first, I might have given the secret to anyone passing." She grinned, and Ron couldn't help but grin back.

They had the same smiles.

"Okay, here you are. You are one of my blood, and as such you have been given the privilege of reading this book."

"One of what?"

"My blood. A long lost relative. Family."

Ron burst out laughing.

Helga Hufflepuff looked offended. "Why do you laugh?"

"Oh, it's nothing. I just had a thought about the size of my own family. I'm not sure that I want to know how big it officially is now." He blushed. "From what I've heard, yours was pretty big too."

She raised her eyebrow at him. "That is true, and I'm sure we're scattered liberally across Britain and the world by now. Although by the end of the war I had only nine children left. It was a shame and a curse that they had to war so much. It's very difficult to lose family, you know. Especially when they're your own children."

Ron blanched. "I'm not sure I want to know."

"Are you at war again?" She asked.

"Yes. Slytherin's heir has been in action for almost the past three years."

"Then Godric's heir will stop him." She said calmly.

"Er…" said Ron, going even whiter.

Harry nearly tripped over his own foot. "Does it have to be his heir?" he asked in a whisper.

"Well, when Godric died, it was said that the last of Salazar's line would be killed by Godric's heir to avenge his death. It's just a question right now if Salazar's line carries any further. If it doesn't, then Godric's heir will supposedly be the one to avenge him." She paused, and looked at Harry and Neville. "Why? Are either of you Godric's heir?"

"Er…" said Neville, and pointed to Harry as if he really didn't want to be doing it.

"Well, I guess I must be." Harry muttered, feeling kind of woozy. "Did his line of heritage pass through his eldest daughter, or did he give it to his first son?" he asked, looking tentatively at Neville.

"It would have been his daughter." Helga said politely. "Godric was quite enamored of his daughter, and as far as I know, he made her his heir to please both her and his wife."

"Harry!" Ron said. "This means you can do it!" Ron looked suddenly ecstatic. "Don't you see? If Gryffindor's heir is the one who will kill Voldemort, and you're the one prophecied to be capable, then doesn't it stand to reason that you'll do it?"

"Unless, I'm killed, then Neville gets both jobs. Killing Voldemort, and being Gryffindor's heir." Harry said wryly.

Neville suddenly looked terrified. "Nu-uh. No way. You'll be able to do it, and I'll have no part of it thanks very much."

Harry still wasn't satisfied.

"No, no." Helga interrupted their argument. "It wasn't a prophecy or anything that I'm telling you. It was simply a rumour. Anyhow, regarding our previous subject." She turned back to Ron "I'm here to also give you the details of our establishment."

"What?" Ron looked confused.

"I'll tell you the secrets of the school as they were in my time."

"This is better than the Marauders map!" Ron shouted with glee, his eyes widening like saucers.


	34. You Know Who's New Method

A/N: This chapter is a bit disjointed, but important in it's own way. I hope it's not too confusing for you. (I apologise to all of those people who were waiting for me to tell all of the school secrets. Not much of it I happening here, but I hope it's enough!) I think that by the time I was writing this part, I was so eager for the end to tie in well, that I wasn't careful about keeping up the excitement of the story. I apologize.

Starving Artist Disclaimer: I'd write a story that could earn me something, but then I might lose the respect of the artistic community. We have to suffer for our art, you know!

**Chapter Thirty-four – **

**You-Know-Who's New Method**

The knowledge that he was possibly Gryffindor's heir should have made Harry feel awkward and nervous, or at least excessively pompous, but it didn't. The way he thought about it was much the same way he saw the prophecy. If he was meant to be, then he was meant to be, and not much could change that.

Besides, it wasn't exactly like it was much of a surprise. He'd almost been expecting this sort of thing to come up and bash him on the head. It had become second nature to just try and accept himself as who he was, almost to the point of ignoring his family history and his own prophecized future. He had to be just Harry.

"So you've read the book?" Hermione asked them in charms the next afternoon. "You know its secret?"

"Yeah, we know its secret." Ron told her lazily.

When Ron didn't continue, and instead focused on his charms textbook, Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well?" she asked impatiently.

"Well what?"

Harry smirked at the exchange. Ron was going to hold the knowledge above Hermione's head. Harry knew he would just get in trouble from both Ron and Gryffindor himself if he gave it up either. Besides that, it could be a little fun to watch Hermione's reaction.

"The book! What sort of secret is it?"

"Huh?" said Ron, holding up his textbook and staring at it, as though Hermione's question were actually about it. "What do you mean?"

Hermione sighed. "Rowena Ravenclaw's book has a secret to getting it open. What is it?"

"Oh, that!" he said as though he had just understood. "No, I can't tell you. It's not my place." He emulated Ravenclaw.

"What do you mean, 'not your place'?" She narrowed her eyes dangerously, and Harry was amazed that Ron could stay strong after that sort of heat. He hadn't even flinched.

"Well, you see… It's different for everyone."

"Dumbledore already told us that, and I don't care! Harry!" She rounded on him. "What's Rowena Ravenclaw's secret?"

Harry grinned. "I shouldn't tell you."

"SHOULDN'T tell me? Or COULDN'T tell me?"

"Either, whichever one catches your fancy."

Hermione had gone slightly purple. It was a good thing that they hadn't told her that Neville had been present at the time, and that he knew the secret too. Neville would have cracked like a bad egg under this sort of pressure. They would have to pull him aside at some point and remind him of his loyalties. Maybe they would threaten him a bit too. They'd have to if Hermione was going to use all of her wits to get the secret out of him.

It was at that moment that a distressed-looking professor Dumbledore knocked lightly on the Charms room doorframe, interrupting tiny professor Flitwick's demonstration to Ernie of concealment charms. The dragon skin purse that he had concealed to look like a cabbage rolled offErnie'sdesk and became a purse again when it touched the floor.

Professor Dumbledore moved further into the class, and Harry could see a red-eyed professor Sprout also hovering beyond the door.

"Pardon me, Filius. Might I have a word with Miss Abbott?"

Hannah looked horrified. "What's happened?" She squeaked, then before professor Flitwick could say his yay or nay, she'd stood, and hurried out into the hall with the Headmaster.

"Oh dear." Hermione muttered.

"What?" Ron blurted out, seemingly unaware of the tension in the room.

"Can't you see?" Hermione whispered to them. "Something's happened, and someone in Hannah's family was affected. Maybe even someone died!"

Harry eyed the closed door with trepidation. "I hope it's not too serious."

Ron shook his head. "It'll be something horrible for sure. There's nothing really we can do about it."

"Ron!" Hermione said with a horrified expression on her face.

"Well, this is a war, Hermione!" Ron said angrily. "I know it's bad, and I'm sorry that people are getting hurt, but I'm not going to let it ruin my happiness. We'll find out what happened later."

Harry thought Ron had a very intelligent way of looking at this, but he said nothing, since Hermione looked like she wanted to strangle him.

She didn't say anything more to either of them throughout the class, and when Flitwick's dismissal came, she tromped out of the classroom, and headed straight for the Gryffindor common room. Hannah had not reappeared, but so many students were whispering about it that by time they reached the common room to dump their things, People were already going around saying that Hannah's whole family was dead. Harry didn't really know what to believe, so he tried hard to ignore the guilty weight that had settled in his stomach.

"C'mon Harry." Ron told him, tugging his sleeve. "Quiddich game starts in an hour. Ravenclaw against Hufflepuff! Got to get good seats!"

That was just what he needed to clear his mind. As far as Ron was concerned, Quidditch could cure everything. "Ron? Are you ever going to tell Hermione about the book?" Harry asked, carefully.

Ron smirked. "Of course! I just want to see her get all stewed up about it first. Trust me, she'll thank us when we finally tell her."

Harry grinned. No matter how depressed he sometimes felt, he surely knew how to go along with a good scheme.

0 0 0 0 0

"GO HUFFLEPUFF!" Ron screamed, apparently wanting to make a complete fool of himself in the Gryffindor box.

Some other Gryffindors who had come out to watch the game gave him nasty looks, but Harry knew why Ron was cheering so loudly.

Hufflepuff hadn't yet won a game, and Ron had a tendency to cheer for the underdogs. It wasn't as if Hufflepuff winning would put Gryffindor out of line for the house cup. Ravenclaw winning might. They'd be playing Ravenclaw anyhow in the cup final, whether Hufflepuff won or lost, so it didn't really matter which team Ron cheered for. Besides which, Ron had a sort of vested interest, now that he knew more of his family history.

The score was currently one hundred and eighty to ninety for Ravenclaw, and the Hufflepuffs were getting slaughtered. Hannah was a chaser on the team this year, and her apparent absence was being felt strongly. A third-year girl was filling in, but doing a horrible job of it. The only thing Hufflepuff had going for them right now was their seeker. Not that he was all that good, but Cho, who was the Ravenclaw seeker and Captain was looking a little off her game. She'd fallen for three wronski feints already, and had missed seeing the snitch dart past her at least twice that Harry knew of. Hufflepuff still had a chance.

Ginny Weasley joined them in the stands halfway through the game. "What's this I hear about you two being gits?" She asked, as she plunked herself down beside Harry.

"Ron started it." Harry explained, pointing his thumb toward his friend.

Ron turned indignantly from the game just as a Ravenclaw chaser collided painfully with a Hufflepuff beater. "Did not! Oh, well okay maybe I did, but can you blame me? Oooch, that must have hurt!"

"Hermione tells me you're keeping secrets."

"Sort of." Harry explained. "You should know it though. I'll have to show it to you." He analyzed her features, and realized that if Ginny were a little plumper, and had slightly lighter and longer hair she would look quite a bit like the picture of Hufflepuff.

The images were somewhat superimposed on each other for a second, and Harry smiled as he imagined Ginny as amedieval flower child. It was completely opposite from what he'd come to expect from her. Ginny was pure reheaded spunk.

"What?" Ginny asked, looking slightly offput at his amused stare.

"Oh, nothing. I should get you Ravenclaw's book. Then you'll understand."

Harry looked back at Ron, and noticed that he had quite happily gone back to yelling himself hoarse at some tremendous save by the Hufflepuff keeper. "Come on. He won't notice if we leave for a second."

They slipped away from the game, and walked back across the grounds into the castle.

"You have to promise that you won't tell Hermione. We're teasing her with it. Or rather, Ron's teasing her with it. You'll understand when you see the book." Harry told her while they walked.

They climbed through the fat lady portrait, and scrambled up the stairs leading into the boys dormitories.

"Here." Harry said, handing her the book. "You should read the whole thing eventually, but first…" He turned the pages as quickly as possible so that she could see the image of Hufflepuff staring up at her.

"Oh!" Hufflepuff jumped a little in surprise, and Ginny stared back.

"Oh!" Ginny said, in recognition. "She looks like me!"

Hufflepuff laughed. It was a bright fluttery sound, and she flipped her braid around to her front to show off the daisies. "You're an intelligent one!"

"Thank you." Ginny responded. "Am I related to you? Is that why I can read this book?"

"I always said I wanted a large family." She told her. "I can safely say that we have multiplied over the years. You must be Ronald's sister." Harry frowned a little. He hadn't remembered telling the book their names.

"Yes, that's right. Well, there are six boys and myself in my immediate family, but I couldn't tell you how many other true Hufflepuffs there are elsewhere."

"Exactly four hundred and twenty two." Hufflepuff answered promptly.

"You keep track?"

"Of course! How do you think we know who to let into the book?"

Harry saw a light go on in Ginny's eyes. She lifted them to stare into Harry's. "And which one are you related to?" she asked bluntly.

Harry didn't even have to answer. His confident smile said it all.

"It's Gryffindor isn't it?"

"Yup." Harry answered. "Neville and I are cousins!"

"It figures." She sighed contentedly, and went back to the image of Hufflepuff.

"I'll be able to tell you all of the secrets of this castle that I know."

"Really? Can you tell me one now?"

Harry was pleased that she'd asked this. He'd meant to find out something interesting from the book, but simply hadn't had the time.

Hufflepuff beamed. "Of course! I shalltell you of my favourite. If you go to greenhouse two, face west and tap your wand on the glass windows three times, it will show you a thing of beauty."

"All right, should we give it a try?" She asked Harry.

"Why not?"

After a quick thank-you to Helga Hufflepuff, they left the book locked in Harry's trunk, and made their way down to the greenhouses.

They crept into greenhouse two, and thankfully it was empty. All of the students were off watching the quidditch game, as was professor Sprout. Ginny stood at the west windows, flicking her gaze from side to side to make sure no one was coming, and rapped her wand against the glass three times.

A voluminous rainbow slid across the sky, closing in over the entire greenhouse.

It was superimposed, Harry realised, on the windowed ceiling. Ginny put her hands to her mouth and giggled. "Helga Hufflepuff was really very overemotional." She said. "It's beautiful, and completely, absolutely typical cheesy Hufflepuff."

"We'll leave it in honour of Hannah's family." Harry said sincerely.

"Do you know what happened there?"

"No, but we can assume it wasn't very good, whatever it was. I'm sure if we visit with Hagrid, we'll have a better understanding,howeverI think it might be better if we wait for Hannah to come back, and ask her. It might be a little more polite than just going behind her back and gossiping."

Ginny nodded. "I hope she's all right."

Harry smiled in agreement, and they watched the rainbow in silence for another minute. Harry sighed loudly. "Shall we return to the quidditch game?" he asked, offering Ginny a gallant elbow.

She took it, hooking her hand into his arm. Leaving the huge rainbow behind in the greenhouse, they left for the quidditch pitch arm in arm.

0 0 0 0 0

It was two days later, on the thirtieth of March, when Harry and the rest of the Pack found themselves sneaking down the passage to the Shrieking Shack on their way to visit with Remus. It was only the third time they had done this since Christmas, but the thrill never seemed to leave them. Remus now looked healthier than he ever had since Harry had met him.

Harry carried his letter from Gringotts in his pocket, and hoped he'd be able to talk with Remus about it. There was still plenty of time between now and when the moon would rise, even though it was already dark.

"Hey Remus." Ron called, stepping out of the passage and greeting the wizard, who sat waiting and reading a book on the torn chaise-longue. Hermione deposited Crookshanks on the floor, and the cat wandered around, sniffingat every corner of the living room.

Neville took Luna's hand almost immediately, and they headed for the basement to begin their ongoing search for Sabertooth's hiding spot.

"Hello everyone." Remus put the book down and turned to face them, nodding to Luna and Neville as they passed. He looked at Harry in particular, since this was the first he'd seen of Harry since Sirius' official pardon.

Harry had told all of the pack about Sirius' will, and the request that Remus be made his wizarding guardian. They were all very excited for him about that, but Harry sort of had the fear that it was only another reason for the Death-Eaters to target someone he cared about. He was also afraid that something might get in the way of it actually happening. He seemed tobe doomed a parentless life.

"Hi Moony." Harry said eagerly, handing him the letter he'd extricated from an inside pocket of his robe. "I'll assume you got a letter too."

"I did." Remus nodded. "So are you going to let me be your wizarding guardian?"

"Only if you want to." Harry answered noncommittally, trying not to show how eager he was for it to be true.

"I think I'd appreciate the job." Remus nodded at him, looking uncharacteristically nervous. "Is that what you would like?"

"I've never really had a proper guardian." Harry explained. "Not a legal one at any rate. Even the Dursleyswere sort of a back up plan, and they had to be given all sorts of fake muggle identification for me when I was a baby." Harry scuffed his shoes a bit, then realised that Remus was going to make him say it. "Of course I'd like you to be my guardian. It says here that you need to sign my letter to make it permanent."

Remus sighed and smiled enthusiastically, but Harry could also see a weary resolve that made him do a double take. Maybe Remus didn't really want to take him in? He carefully kept his expression neutral as Remus' smile slipped perceptibly. "There's just one problem."

Harry's heart now began to pound with alarm. _Whatnow?_ He thought. "A problem?"

"Werewolves aren't _legally_ allowed to have children. Not allowed to be legal guardians either." He gulped nervously as he said this. "That's one of the reasons that James never put me on his will as a secondary guardian should something have happened to Sirius. I might have been there, but for a few lines in the lawbooks."

Harry gaped. "You mean if it weren't for some stupid law about Werewolves, then you would have been my guardian all those years that Sirius was in Azkaban?"

"Well, there was the fact that you were much safer at your aunts, and also the matter that James probably suspected me of beinga Death-Eater spy when he died. He wouldn't have wanted to let me know that though, so he might have used the werewolf law as an excuse. But that was the reasoning he gave me, and I'd prefer to go by it if you don't mind. Don't forget though, that it's just plain dangerous for most children to be perpetually around a werewolf." Remus explained.

"That's bollocks." Ron interjected. "You've taken care of the danger pretty well over the years. There's no reason to believe that."

"Thank you Ron, but not every werewolf is like me. Not every werewolf takes responsibility for his actions as the wolf." He shook his head. "They need the law there to keep the others in line."

"There are plenty of muggles whobeat and abuse their children. Should they _all_ then be told that they can't have any?" Harry asked quietly.

"Not every wizard is like you either. Just look at Voldemort." Hermione cut in. "I shudder to think of him being responsible fora child. Maybe I should start up another foundation." She looked very intense as she said this, causing Ron's face to crack into a grin. "No, really. Something like; the 'Werewolf Oppression Lifting Force, or W.O.L.F." She frowned at Ron when he rolled his eyes. "Laws should be fair, and this one is just plain dumb. There's no reason for it whatsoever, and from what I've heard there aren't many witches or wizards willing to stick up for werewolves. Remus needs our support."

"Thank you Hermione." Remus said, grinning. "But unfortunately, this doesn't get rid of our current predicament."

"Isn't there some part of that law that says 'unless certain restrictions are met?'" Ginny piped up, looking thoughtful. Hermione gaped at her. Ginny shrugged. "Hagrid told me that part. I only just remembered it now."

"Indeed it does say that, Ginny, and that was my next subject. The official stipulations are 'As long as the werewolf in question is provided with regular Wolfsbane potion, and the youth in question is sent away from the residence of the werewolf for a period of four days; two before the full moon, and two following the full moon. If the youth in question were to return for any period during that time, the werewolf must be monitored by a trained physician, and shackled at both wrists and ankles to a solidly grounded silver post."

"That's horrible!" Hermione burst out. "They can't expect that rule to be followed-"

"Yes, they can." Remus explained. "It's why I've never bothered to have children of my own. They also ask that any werewolf responsible for a youth, get themselves and the youth assessed medically once a month just after each full moon."

"I'm not going to let you sign this letter then." Harry said angrily, waving the parchment in theair."That way I can stay with you on a full moon without you breaking the stupid law. I don't want you to sign it if all you'd get from it is more flack."

"There's one more stipulation." Remus said, his eyes glinting eerily yellow in a precursor to his imminent transformation.

"What, more?" Hermione gasped. "This is absolutely insane!"

"The former stipulations must be met, unless the youth in question becomes a registered animagus, and the werewolf in question is regularily given the Wolfsbane potion, at which point the youth may be present without escort in animagus form during transformations. It's rarely used, since Animagus training is very difficult and there are so few adults even, who are capable."

Harry's hope lifted for a moment, before reality set in. "I can't register. I didn't go through the proper channels to learn, and someone in the ministry is likely to notice."

Remus gave Harry a little one-armed hug. "Don't worry, We'll figure something else out."

Harry nodded, feeling quite disappointed. "Don't sign it until we know for sure," he added, taking the letter from Remus' fingers, and slipping it back into his pocket.

At that moment, Luna and Neville returned from down in the basement, followed by the flapping of owl wings at the uncovered window. Hedwig and Pigwidgeon alighted on the ledge.

"Who wants to play hide-and seek?" Luna asked excitedly. "We think we know where Sabertooth has been hiding!"

0 0 0 0 0

The evening of the full moon went by without a hitch, even though they were all very tired the next morning. The moon had been up later in the morning than ever before, and it had stayed up a little even while the sun was rising.

Nobody had bothered to get any sleep except Wrinkles, who found it quite pleasant to just doze off in the middle of the living room of the shrieking shack. Indeed, he had been lying directly above Sabertooth's legendary hiding spot, which they had found, was a space between the ceiling of the basement and the floorboards of the living room. She had been crawling in through a deceptively large hole in the wall halfway down the stairwell to the basement.

Ginny was only a little disappointed that her secret spot had been discovered, because it meant they could stop playing hide-and-seek, of which she had become frustratingly bored.

They all returned to the school that morning in buoyant spirits, Harry's letter from Gringotts almost entirely forgotten.

0 0 0 0 0

The rainbow in greenhouse two was something of a legend over the next month while professor Sprout went crazy trying to figure out where it had come from, and also how to get rid of it. She complained that while the rainbow was very pretty, it was cutting out the full effect of the sun on the plants.

Harry and Ginny snuck back in one evening, a week after putting it up, and quietly took it down. Professor Sprout was mystified.

She was especially so, since the rainbow popped its colourful self back up every once in awhile with seemingly no warning or sense. It even came up once right in the middle of the fifth year Gryffindor and Ravenclaw Herbology class as they absently planted dragonlily seeds. She didn't see Ginny smiling to herself near the west window, nor did she think it might have been a _person _responsible.

Ron and Neville were also given the necessary information to tease the professor, and greenhouse two became something of a colour and light spectacle.

They all had to stop three weeks later, because Harry noticed that professor Sprout had put up an area monitoring charm. He was able to tell, since he had been reading up on detecting and was practising the 'room charm revealer' spell in every room he walked into. It madea ghostlyimage of a wand pop up, and a squeak ofa voicerevealed what charms the person had cast. It wasn't that good a spell, since it couldn't tell you _who_had performed the charm, but it was useful nonetheless. The greenhouses all hadfreshmonitoring charms and three other charms that looked like different sorts of fertilisation charms.

After that, Ron took to using the spell too, and found out that the dungeons in which Snape taught potions were protected with both a stench depressing charm and a strong mind mellowing charm. Doubtless the latter was due to Harry's persistent use of legilimency in Snape's presence. It certainly explained why Neville had fallen asleep during potions class the week before.

Harry, Ron, Neville and Ginny spent an envigorating evening two weeks after the full moon, toiletpapering the Slytherin common room. With the help of Godric Gryffindor and Helga Hufflepuff, they were able to do the whole thing without even setting foot into the affected area. Hermione obviously had her suspicions of who had gotten the Slytherins so riled, but she was unable to prove her theories, since her four suspects were adamantly not talking, and she was certain that they had all been present in the Gryffindor tower the evening of the offence. Despite her suspicions, Hermione tried very hard to pretend that she was not angry at Ron and Harry. Harry was grateful for her efforts.

The Detectives didn't let up on finding the culprit who was leaking Order information to the Prophet, and Hermione even went so far as to send a note with Hedwig to Rita Skeeter, asking if she had seen anything suspicious around the prophet publishing centre these days. It was a mark of how desperate they were that she was writing to the woman, and they weren't surprised not to hear back from her.

They were surprised to find a letter from the Hogmeade Historical Society fall into Hermione's cereal early one morning, near the end of April.

When they saw the envelope, Harry and Ron told her they were feeling left out of her plans again. She gave them an intense glare as an answer, and Ron and Harry exchanged knowing looks. Theywere all thinkingabout their Slytherin coup two weeks before. The hypocritical nature of the conversation made them suddenly forgive Hermione very quickly, and they both gave her innocent looks. They were still not prepared to giveup the secret ofRavenclaw's book

Hermione looked at them haughtily. "I thought that if we could find out what sorts of people the HHS admit, then we might be able to ask them each a few questions. I told them I was interested in becoming a member, and I wanted to know what sorts of references they had so I could ask around."

Harry and Ron raised their eyebrows at her as she wiped milk from the parchment envelope. She opened the letter and started to read.

"Hey, this is better than I'd hoped!" she said excitedly, staring wide-eyed at the envelope's contents.

"What does it say?" Ron asked, trying toread over her shoulder.

"It's a list of all the benefactors of the HHS. All of the people who do research for them, and another list of people who give them donations. I just thought they would send a few names or something so I could interview them. Instead we could just check here to see if there are any familiar names, and if we need to we can contact one or two that we know we can trust!"

"Good idea!" Harry said, wishing he'd thought of it.

"Recognise anyone?" Hermione asked, scanning the page quickly and passing it over to him. "Excluding Malfoy and Nott, of course. Although it says that they donate funds, they're currently wanted by the law, so they would likely have no chance to contact anyone on that list at the moment, unless there's someone else helping them."

"Of course." Harry mumbled, as he perused the parchment. "Oh, my-!" He mumbled, noticing a particularly awful name that he vaguely remembered hearing. He felt a bit feverish just thinking about the memory that had been tweaked. "You're not going to believe this, Hermione."

"What." She asked, completely oblivious to the intensity of Harry's expression.

"Thaddeus Platt." Harry pointed the name out to Hermione, but she only looked vaguely mystified, as if she remembered something, but couldn't figure out why. She obviously didn't see the connection Harry had made. "It says here, he's one of the top researchers for the HHS, and that explains why the people there seem to have information they shouldn't. I've only heard the full name once, but I remember it now."

"Where did you hear it?" Ron asked, looking curious.

"Percy's attack."

"Way back then?"

Harry lowered his voice. "Voldemort sent him on another errand after Percy's kidnapping, and called him once by his first name, and once by his second.."

"What sort of errand?" Ron asked, his eyes narrowing.

Harry looked over at Hermione, and it was then that she knew, and she paled considerably. "It was him, wasn't it." It was not a question.

Ron's face went red very quickly, but he was able to stay calm enough to keep his voice frighteningly low and even. "Why didn't you tell us who he was before? He's been out of Azkaban for this long, and he's a menace. So what kept you from telling us?"

Harry heard the angry undertone in Ron's voice that asked, 'why didn't you tell_ me?' _He tried to ignore it.

Hermione for her part, had gone silent, and was looking down at her hands.

"I'm sorry." Harry said, knowing it was insubstantial. "I didn't remember until just now what his name was. I thought it might have been something like 'Flat' I didn't want to say anything until I was certain."

"He's still out there?" Hermione squeaked. "He's still hurting people?"

"Dumbledore needs to know." Ron said, his face slowly returning to a more human colour.

"As usual." Harry said, nodding. "Let me just make sure I don't recognise anyone else." He scanned the parchment thoroughly once more, but no other names prickled the back of his neck the way Thaddeus Platt's just had.

"That's it." Harry said. "Just him."

"We're skipping defense." Ron said angrily, as though there was no other option.

Harry nodded, and was surprised when Hermione didn't say anything to counter Ron's declaration. Ron simply grabbed her hand, pulling her up from the bench, and the three of them left breakfast early. Harry gave Hagrid, who was sitting at the teacher's table, an intense stare, and once he had the giant's attention, beckoned him silently to follow.

Harry followed Ron and Hermione a little further back and read the list again.

He noticed with some amusement, that Ron had not let go of Hermione's hand. She seemed not to have noticed that hers was still locked with his, and looked quite content to be dragged down the hill to Hagrid's hut by an irate redhead. Her anger at the two of them completely forgotten.

They arrived at the cabin, and Hagrid pulled up only seconds later, looking very concerned.

"What's all this then?" He asked, gesturing to Hermione, who seemed to be shaking again, and had subconsciously burrowed herself into Ron's shoulder.

"Inside." Harry said quickly.

They moved in the door, and H arry cast a silencing charm. He spun to face Hagrid. "Thaddeus Platt." He said very clearly. "Is a Death-Eater, and he needs to be stopped."

"Wha?" Hagrid looked stunned. "How d'you get that name? Isn't he a member of the Mayor's council of Hogsmeade or sommat?"

"He's on the list of benefactors to the Hogsmeade Historical Society, and I recognised his name from something Voldemort said during Percy's attack. He's the one who's been giving information to the rest of the society, and also, in effect to Angela Downfish and the Prophet."

"Do you have proof?" Hagrid asked, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"No." Harry said harshly, knowing it was true. At the edge of his vision, Hermione put her hand up to her mouth, holding in a gasp. "They would never let someone my age testify, and I'm the only one probably who remembers his name being mentioned. I wouldn't really want many people to know how it happened either, seeing as I was only a spectator in Voldemort's mind at the time. Perhaps Percy would remember, but it's more than likely that his statement would be voided because of the stress he was under at the time."

Hagrid sat down very heavily on his massive armchair.

"However, I'm sure Mr. Weasley or Professor McGonagall will remember his voice and face from when he was at the Grangers. Hermione certainly would, and I remember that he had a rather nasty cut on his cheek that's likely turned into a scar. Percy would probably remember that."

Hagrid, gasped in alarm, and looked back over at Hermione. "It's not him?!"

"It is." Hermione answered, sounding a bit calmer. "I remember someone calling him Platt."

"You remember too?" Harry asked her, astonished.

"I had no first name to go by." She said, half-smiling weakly at Harry. She slowly pushed herself away from Ron, and took a few deep confident breaths. Ron stuck his hands in his pockets, as if he couldn't figure out what to do with them now.

"Hermione," Hagrid said slowly, "I don't know what will happen, but I promise that if he's not convicted by the ministry, then the Order'll find some other way of dealing with it."

Hermione nodded, and searched out Ron's hand again.

"If Dumbledore needs me to come in to his office and give him a memory for his pensieve, he knows where I am." Harry said solemnly. "Here's the list of benefactors. I would recommend that each person on this list be checked for possible Death-Eater connections. You'll notice at least two other names that pertain to Voldemort in some way; Malfoy and Nott, so it's possible that there are others."

"I'll do what I can." Hagrid answered solemnly, taking the list.

Ron and Hermione led the way out of the cabin, but Harry turned back to Hagrid just before the door. "By the way, what happened to Hannah's family? She hasn't been back for the past month, and we're getting really worried."

Hagrid's eyes flicked over to Hermione again, and Harry wondered what she had to do with Hannah's family.

"Well, erm… Miss Abbott's a muggleborn, see?"

"Yes…" Harry said, not quite understanding the half-giant's comment.

"Well, 'er mother is in hospital. Miss Abbott's sitting at her bedside, because it doesn't sound like the lady's got much longer to go."

"Oh, No!" Hermione gasped. "That's horrible! What does she have?"

"No, er… It's nothing like that. Her family was attacked by Death-Eaters. Her father and younger brother were killed in the attack."

A keening moan escaped Hermione's mouth. "But…They're muggles!" was all she was able to say. Harry's heart had skipped a beat, and he felt horrible.

"Yeah… Well, that's probably why they attacked them. It's You-Know-Who's new method of attack. He's going after the Muggles what are related to witches and Wizards. I guess he thinks they don't have the right to exist, or to make little wizards an witches."

Harry growled in anger. "By that token, he should kill himself. He's half muggleborn."

"It's just the families 'e's killing. Not the muggleborns 'emselves so far. They can't protect themselves, see? To him, they're just like pets or sommat." Hagrid shook his head.

Harry nodded, eying Hermione, who was shivering a bit and looking frantic.

Ron took hold of Hermione, wrapping his arms around her and gave her a tight squeeze, looking as if he didn't know what else to do.

"That means Hermione's parents are in danger." Harry noddedat Hagrid. "And theDursleys too.Please make sure they're properly protected if you can." Harry insisted.

"We've already gone through and given the proper warding to all of the muggleborn students' parents and families." Hagrid said, nodding to Hermione. "You just take care o' yourself, now."

"Thanks Hagrid." Harry said, again feeling an intense stab of guilt that people were dying because he wasn't ready.


	35. Hogsmeade

A/N: I swear, I don't mean for the squished-up words to keep happening. I know for a fact that it doesn't happen at all in this chapter, at least not when I last edited it, so if it does show up again, let me know, and I'll write a strongly worded e-mail to the people who need to hear it. (By the way, we're getting near to the end! Just five more chapters to go!)

Umbridge Disclaimer: "So then, I shall have to put you down for a reprimand. One does not expect a writer such as myself to take undue credit, does one? In this instance, I shall have to make you my _special_ assistant." (Evil toad-like grin)

**Chapter Thirty-five –**

**Hogsmeade**

Two weeks later, Hogsmeade was open for business once more.

Technically, the town had been back up and running since February, but most people were a little afraid to go back until Hogwarts had given the okay for their students. Witches and Wizards trusted Dumbledore's opinion to a certain extent, and if he thought the town would be safe by May, then it was. It was highly unlikely that any attack would happen now, what with regular patrols by the aurors, teachers, and Order members. There were almost constant noises of rebuilding and the Death-Eaters couldn't have done a lot to compete with the racket.

The first Hogsmeade trip since the one before Christmas was on a sunny Saturday in April when Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville just happened to have some time off. Luna and Ginny had some major studying to do, as their OWLs were approaching very quickly, so they were left behind in the Library to keep company with with three huge stacks of books.

The four who went to Hogsmeade were a little nervous to be going into the the town based solely on what had happened the last time they'd been there, but they were determined to see what the town now looked like.

"I wish we could use the passage into Honeyduke's." Ron sighed wistfully. "I don't see how we could now with Dumbledore and Filch on our tails." He and Hermione seemed to be attached at the hands, and had been ever since two weeks ago. Hermione's memories of the words Thaddeus Platt had spoken to her the past summer, along with the fact that Voldemort was now targeting muggleborn families, had made her feel a little vulnerable, and Ron had somehow stepped in to fill the role of protector and counceller.

Harry knew from late night chats with Ron, that they hadn't even talked about it, and just allowed the physical connection because it felt natural and comfortable. They seemed to have an unspoken agreement between them. They could express their very real affection by holding hands and acting worried about each other, but they couldn't mention it or become intimate in any way. That line would only be crossed when Hermione was happily back to her properly nagging self.

"What about one of the other passages?" Neville asked, lagging behind the group a bit.

"There aren't any that Filch doesn't know about, and the last one's collapsed remember?" Harry reminded him.

"It's probably for the best, anyhow." Hermione said. "We don't want anyone to go and find any way in that Dumbledore hasn't charmed shut."

And so they strolled into Hogsmeade aboveground, and in the open air, where as many as seven people pulled Harry aside on the road, and thanked him yet again, and wanted to make small talk on how the rebuilding of the town was progressing.

"I should have brought my invisibility cloak." Harry grumbled.

"Oh, Harry. It's not so bad." Hermione chided.

"Yes it is." He argued, and suddenly winced. "Guys, we've got to stop for a second. I need to check something." The slightly scared tone of his voice, and the way he had stopped so abruptly made them realize that something important was happening.

Harry gingerly pressed his hand to his scar, and swept his eyes over the street. A few students milled along the road around them, but other than that, no one was near. He moved off the road behind a stand of trees beside a hedge, and the others followed.

The entire time, Harry's mind couldn't help thinking. _Not again, not again, not again. Not now, not now, not here. Not again._

He calmed his emotions out of pure desperation, and began to meditate.

* * *

"_Every five years? Are you certain about that? Where did you acquire this information?" _

_He was in a long dark hallway that was very richly furnished. It was not as safe as headquarters, but the feel of dark magic was everywhere around him. It permeated the carpets, the rich tapestry, and the air he drew into his lungs._

_A faintly lisping voice answered from his right, and he turned to pay closer attention to the man's expression. "I heard that it was a myth, but my son has been able to verify this. He has seen it himself, and wishes to show us. He has come home for the weekend, so you may speak with him directly if you wish."_

"_Does he wish to be initiated into our circle? I can see potential in that boy."_

"_It is his goal to serve you as I have, my lord. I am pleased that you see his strength."_

"_You are now my most trusted advisor Lucius. I will accept your son into our circle when he feels ready. I do not wish to rush things, and I want to train him properly myself."_

"_Thank you. I will ask him if he is prepared. You will have his answer within a week."

* * *

_

Harry opened his eyes, and sighed with semi-relief. He sent an invisible breeze blowing across the street with the excess magic.

He smiled. He was getting better at this.

"So?" Ron asked impatiently. "What happened? Is he somewhere nearby?"

Three sets of concerned eyes were locked on him, and Harry made to reassure them. "No, he's somewhere else. I just felt that he was pleased, and I wanted to check it out."

"What was he pleased about?" Hermione asked.

"It seems that our wonderful friend Draco Malfoy is going to be inducted into the Death-Eater circle." Harry said wryly. "We knew something like this would happen sooner or later. I guess now is the time. He's given Voldemort some information that he wanted."

"Well, that explains the whole thing with Malfoy being so sick a while ago. I'll bet he knew what was coming." Hermione interjected thoughtfully.

"I'm not sure Malfoy would balk at an opportunity like this." Ron said, shaking his head emphatically. "He would be absolutely ecstatic about it. It's just what he's always's wanted!"

Neville shuddered a little. "But with Malfoy as a Death-Eater, won't that put the school in danger? I mean, what happens if Malfoy just goes and opens the gates for them or something?"

"From what I've just heard, Voldemort's making some sort of deal with Malfoy's dad that will give Malfoy some time for specific training. I don't think he'll just be a Death-Eater right away." Harry looked around to make sure they were still alone. "It's sort of like the deal that Dumbledore made with us, even though he tells us we're full members, we know we're missing some things, and that we aren't allowed to fight. Voldemort might do something similar. Just keep him out of everything until he's needed."

Ron nodded in agreement. "Right. That makes sense. I guess nobody wants to have a student fighting when you know that they could be so much better after some proper training. It's a pretty intelligent scheme, and Voldemort has lost quite a few of his followers recently. It only makes sense that he would train new ones to replace them. I guess he doesn't have the same sort of age limit issues as Dumbledore."

They walked out from behind the outcropping of trees, and continued moving down the lane.

"We have to tell Dumbledore about this." Hermione said. "If there are going to be Death-Eaters in his school, he has the right to know."

Harry nodded. "We'll do it as soon as we get back. For now, this doesn't sound desperate. His dad said he would have the answer for him within a week."

Hermione eyed him haughtily. "Everything in this war is desperate." She scolded.

Ron rolled his eyes, but said nothing.

"Er…" said Neville, and stopped, his eyes bulging out of his face at a sign on a nearby building which had distracted him.

"What?" Harry asked, then caught sight of the same thing Neville had just seen. He smiled, and turned to Ron, who had the same dazed look in his eyes as Neville. None of them had realized that they were already in town, since the landscape had changed so drastically.

"Well, you wanted recognition." Harry reminded them.

Hermione caught sight of the sign too, and started to snicker, leaning a bit on Ron's shoulder. Ron blushed crimson, and tried to avert his eyes from both Hermione, and the sign. He ended up focusing on his shoes.

At the edge of Hogsmeade, where the Three Broomsticks pub had once stood, sat a flashy new pub with an incredibly well drawn painting over the door. The sign that had caught everyone's attention was tall, red and very modern looking. Harry could see that it was charmed to light up in the dark.

The sign read: _'The Fox and the Pug'._

The painting, which was moving, depicted a very realistic looking fox and pug, who circled each other and played back and forth, snapping at each other's heels.

It didn't look much like Ron or Neville in their animagus forms, but that was probably only because Harry had seen them both up close, and had nearly memorized their features. The people who had commissioned the painting likely had only a split second to analyze the famous creatures.

"Shall we?" asked Harry, gesturing towards the pub.

Ron shrugged. "Maybe we should go inside in our animal forms. We might get more attention than you!"

Hermioine was vigorously shaking her head, and frowning. "No way! Ron, you can't do that!"

"Why not?" Neville asked, sounding as if he really wanted to try.

"What do you think people would do if they saw the fox and the pug that saved them all from that attack?"

Neville shrugged. "I don't know. Wave?"

"They would try to catch them! And you would be stuck in a cage and gawked at, and analyzed, and poked and prodded, and made into celebrity animals. Then they would somehow discover that you're really animagi, then you'd get into trouble! You could be charged for illegal shapeshifting! You don't want that to happen do you?"

"No, not really." Ron promised. "Human it is."

They walked cautiously toward the door, and ducked inside.

The place had a warm and pleasant feel to it, and they trailed along hesitantly toward the bar.

Madam Rosmerta stood behind it, polishing the gleaming counter top, and Hagrid sat on a stool at its edge.

"Hey you lot! Over here!" he called, and waved his dustpan-sized hand in the air to call them over. Harry was incredibly pleased that Hagrid hadn't used his name, but people turned and stared at him nonetheless.

"How are yeh?" Hagrid asked, slugging back the last of his tankard of ale. "Like the name?" he eyed Ron and Neville with laughter twinkling in his eyes.

"Oh sure. It's great." Neville answered, pretending to analyze the specials menu. His face went very red at the title on the front, and he quickly put it down.

"Very interesting." Ron smirked.

"Hello Harry!" Madam Rosmerta finally made her way down to the end of the bar, and plunked four bottles of butterbeer down in front of Harry and his friends. "On the house!" she told them, and Harry wasn't about to argue.

"Thanks." He said, and popped out the cork. He raised his bottle in a toast, and she blushed happily.

"So what do you think of my new place? Ministry gave me a good grant, and the construction ended in March."

"Very catchy name." Harry answered, taking a swig.

"You best be glad I didn't call it 'Potter's Pub' or something like that."

Harry's expression was horrified, and he nearly spat out his mouthful. "Don't even joke about something like that," he spluttered. He could see that Ron and Neville were having a hard enough time keeping their faces glued into contained smiles as it was. They didn't need any more reason to laugh out loud.

She sighed. "I miss the Three Broomsticks, but I have to admit that this place is definitely nicer and roomier."

"It certainly is." Harry said, smiling. "You'll get used to it."

"I hope so." She grabbed a silver tray, and plunked three drinks on it.

"I've got something for you." Hagrid leaned over and muttered to Harry, once Madam Rosmerta had moved off to deliver her goods. The rest of the pack had gathered themselves together over the menu Neville was holding, laughing and pointing at something inside.

"What have you got?" Harry whispered back to Hagrid.

Hagrid felt around in three or four pockets, before he retrieved a scrap of parchment. He slid it secretly across the counter to Harry.

It was an article, but obviously a magically copied one that might be showing up in tomorrow's Prophet. The Order must have taken on someone connected to the Prophet, since they would be the only people with access to the pre-published articles.

Hagrid tapped the page, pointing at the author's name. "She made a copy for us. She's joined up."

_**Corruption Runs Rampant at Hogsmeade Historical Society**_

_By Angela Downfish_

_Two Wizards and one Witch were led away in shackles from the Ministry of Magic in London by Aurors yesterday in a frenzy of reporters and onlookers. The most surprising of which was the arrest of 34 year-old Hogsmeade Mayoral assistant Thaddeus Platt, who, along with Jenna Hawkings and Percival Price, have been charged with dark activity in connection with You-Know-Who._

_Apparently all three of the accused were members of the Hogsmeade Historical Society, and surprisingly enough, were responsible for informing He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named in regards to the 'Hogsmeade Hunt' of this past December, which utterly destroyed the town. According to Jiggory Poeky, Society President, the HHS was sent an anonymous tip from a Hogsmeade villager, and the Society itself has been running covert investigations into its own members. _

_Other HHS benefactors Lucius Malfoy and Nicholas Nott have already been found guilty of Dark Activity, but their whereabouts are still unknown after their escape this past August from Azkaban Prision. _

_The ministry has given permission for the accused to hold trial some time in the next week, and it has been noted that the wizengamot will be using Veritaserum in an enclosed inquiry to determine the possibility of further charges._

"But everyone will know then won't they?" Harry asked Hagrid quietly. "If they use veritaserum, then wouldn't they know that Voldemort sent them all after Hermione and everyone?"

Hagrid winced at the sound of the name, but he shook his head. "We've been able to convince the minister that Kingsley Shacklebolt ought to lead the inquiries, so he'll be able to choose his staff, and… erm… repair… the problems a bit."

Harry nodded, satisfied. He didn't want anyone in the ministry to know that his friends were involved with any of his antics, and he didn't want to embarrass Hermione any more than necessary. Hermione had spoken to Dumbledore about Platt, and hopefully Shacklebolt could find some excuse to charge the man with sexual harassment along with all of the other charges.

"Hagrid, can I keep this?"

Hagrid nodded, patting yet another pocket. "Got a copy here," and Harry stuffed the parchment into his own pocket. He wanted to show it to Ron and Hermione, but he didn't think Neville should be privy to their investigations. He would show it to them when they got back to the castle that afternoon.

Hermione and Ron were certain to be pleased about it, since it meant that Platt was officially out of commission.

* * *

"Ouch!" 

The three detectives were in the library on a Saturday morning in late May when Harry yelped, dropped his quill, and slapped his hand to his scar.

"Harry? What's happened?" Hermione stopped her quill scratching, and looked up from her work.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Here we go again." Harry could tell that he meant it all very halfheartedly. Ron's face had gone pale and nervous looking.

"It's nothing, I think." Harry said, trying to calm the twinge down to nothing. "He's just feeling frustrated."

"That can't be too bad." Ron shrugged.

Harry nodded. "As long as he's not happy." He winced again, and tried to go back to his homework.

"That's been happening more frequently hasn't it?" Hermione asked, thoughtfully tapping her quill against her cheek.

Harry checked his recent memory. "Come to think of it, the pains are getting rather frustrating again. It stopped for awhile there, when Voldemort was just gathering supporters again, but now he's active again, it's changed. My scar was always hurting a little, but I get heavier twinges of pain four or five times a day now. Sometimes they wake me up in the middle of the night too."

"Do you think you're getting more receptive to him?" Hermione asked.

Ron's head snapped up. "I thought Dumbledore wanted you to stop catching his moods. Haven't you been practicing your occlumency and legilimency?"

Harry shrugged. "I've been practicing the best I can. It doesn't really have any effect on how often the pains come. I can usually dampen the sting once I feel the first hit, but I can't stop it completely. Maybe I _am_ getting more receptive."

"Or… maybe he's getting stronger." Hermione shrewdly pointed out.

Ron narrowed his eyes. "Shouldn't you tell Dumbledore?"

"Yeah, I reckon I should."

Harry didn't move at first, but Hermione closed her books and stood. "Then let's go tell him."

They made their way out of the library, and down the first floor hall to the stairs. The school was reasonably empty, since most students were off in Hogsmeade for the day. Only a few first and second year students milled about, since they were not allowed out of the school.

Harry was the first to turn the corner into the stairwell, so he was the first to notice two taller forms at the top of the first flight. He reeled and pulled his friends back around the corner by their cloaks.

"What?" Ron asked.

"Shhh." Harry shushed him. "It's Snape and Malfoy," he hissed, and peeked cautiously around the corner.

The two were in the middle of having a very serious looking discussion. They were hunched over and talking in low voices so that Harry, Ron and Hermione couldn't hear. Snape had obviously seen or heard some movement when Harry had come around the corner, and he shuffled Malfoy off towards his office.

"That's the third time I've seen them do that." Ron whispered. "Something's going on here they're being far too secretive."

"I've seen it once or twice." Hermione admitted.

"I'd like to know what's happening then." Harry told them, frowning. He hadn't seen it happen at all before, but it was curious now that Ron and Hermione had pointed it out.

Ron shrugged, and got a sly grin on his face. He promptly reached up and knocked his wand on the top of his head, making himself go chameleon. Harry and Hermione nodded, and did the same.

They followed the hallways towards Snape's office where they assumed the professor had taken Malfoy, and very soon they could hear the two faint Slytherin voices up ahead. They arrived at Snape's classroom just in time to see the door shut with both Snape and Malfoy inside.

"I'll listen." Ron's voice broke the silence, and Harry watched the rippling air that was Ron press itself to the door. "They're in his office." He mumbled, sounding disappointed.

"I've got just the thing." Hermione said, tapping Ron's shoulder, and letting him feel something she now held in her hand.

Ron chuckled. "An extendable ear, how useful!"

"Never leave home without it." Hermione answered quietly.

"I've got one too." Harry said, taking his out, and plugging it into his own ear.

Ron sighed dramatically. "I'm a real traitor. My own brothers are the creators, and I can't even bother to honour them enough to regularly carry their merchandise. The last one I had broke."

Harry dropped his invisible coil of string on the floor, and was surprised to see that it was also charmed to go chameleon. They aught to disillusion themselves every time they used these things, that way no one would see the little pink string wriggling its way across a floor somewhere. He felt more than saw the end wriggle its way under the door, and heard it move across to the office. It was only a few seconds before he could clearly hear what was being said.

"Think of things that make you incredibly angry normally, and just let the anger dissappear." Snape was saying. "You are allowed to think and analyze any emotion you might have had, but give me no reason to suspect your feelings on the issue. Keep your emotions away from your brain."

Harry gasped.

He knew what was going on. The next words only confirmed it.

"All right, are you ready?"

"Yes sir."

"You know the shield?"

"Yes sir."

"Right then. Legilimens!" 

_"Occlumens!"_

Harry rushed to retract the invisible string, feeling slightly panicky, and he could feel Hermione doing the same beside him.

"What?" Ron whispered. "What were they doing then?"

Harry shoved the invisible extendable ear into his pocket, and rushed away from the door.

"He's teaching him occlumency." Harry told Ron once they were far enough away. "He's giving him much more information than he ever gave me in my lessons." He added, rapping himself on the head more aggressively than he'd intended.

"Is Malfoy on our side then?" Hermione asked. "I thought he was going to be a Death-Eater?

Harry shrugged. "There's no way to know. Snape might have some other reason to teach him. Maybe Voldemort has asked him to do that in order to fool Dumbledore."

"Malfoy would never be on our side." Ron said vehemently. "Not unless he thought there was something in it for him."

"Then why teach him occlumency?" Hermione argued.

"I think we should really be asking ourselves which side _Snape_ is on." Ron spat, "What does he think he's doing?"

Again, the only response Harry could come up with was a shrug.

* * *

A/N: I figured out the paragraph dividing thing all on my own! (For any of you who want to know, it's up at the top where there's a little single black line. If you hold the mouse just over it for a second, it tells you "add ruler". That's what it means! it means that if you want to space out the paragraphs into sections, such as the one just above this Author's Note, then you click on it! Aren't I brilliant! No more zeroes! YAY! 


	36. Nagini The Spy

A/N: Can't talk, too excited! 

Malfoy Disclaimer: I have had entirely too much of this common mudblood, and of taking less than one deserves. Give me my rights! I am important! (Punch-in-the-face!)

**Chapter Thirty-six –**

**Nagini the Spy**

Exams were coming up, and Harry was getting nervous.

It wasn't as if these were his NEWTs or anything. He wouldn't be told he could never be a detective if he failed these exams now. It was simply the thought of not having a proper base for which to build his top thirtieth percentile of the Auror Academy which was making him stress so badly about these exams.

He sat in the Gryffindor common room late at night, or rather, early in the morning. His eyes were getting bleary, and his mind was slowly flattening to squeeze all the information he had ever learned about charms right out his ears.

He silently put his head down on the parchments in defeat.

A crack of pain sliced through his scar with absolute clarity, and Harry nearly screamed at the suddenness of the attack. He'd gotten used to feeling a dull ache in his scar, but he always knew when the pain meant something really important. It hadn't really happened in a good three or four months, since the attack on the Minister for magic. Even the attack on Hannah's family had done nothing to provoke the scar. He was certain that there had been other missed incidents as well.

_This_ was certainly something important.

The pain was nearly all consuming, but Harry forced himself to calm down and breathe evenly.

Once he had the pain down to a manageable level, he could finally think about the situation without emotions. He had to get past the intense feelings of helplessness and frustration before he could find out what Voldemort was feeling.

Voldemort was happy.

He was ecstatic.

He was… inside Hogwarts.

_Damn._

Harry calmed his mind. He ignored the fact that he was being affected by the most evil wizard alive, and began to meditate.

Voldemort could not feel him as he infiltrated. His mind was not evolved enough to comprehend the incursion because he was once again, in the body of a snake. It was for this reason and this reason alone that Harry had felt his scar sear painfully a few seconds ago, after nothing except repetitive twinges and faint hints ofunbalanced emotion.

The snake slithered its way through the halls of Hogwarts, tasting the air for dangers.

The hallways passed, and Harry felt the glee with which Voldemort seemed to slink his way toward the upper floors.

Voldemort knew these halls well. He reminisced about times when he had sent another sort of snake out to search the school for Mudbloods and blood traitors. The thought made him laugh to himself. Soon enough he would have dead Mudbloods everywhere. A Mudblood feast. He imagined their bodies strewn across the corridors with fang marks on their jugulars_. Go on, blame the Vampires for their deaths Dumbledore. I dare you._

Then he thought about the warmth of spilled blood when it is tasted in one's mouth. He even wistfully wondered about vampires and the power they wielded. But he remembered then that vampires still had a hierarchy, and he would need to begin at the bottom, where all the worthless undead grovelled at the feet of their lord.

Lord Voldemort wished to kill, but never to lose his position of authority in doing so. What would be the point? What was there to be gained if he was not the one giving commands?

He would be worse than Potter, always taking Dumbledore's word for things. Trusting that everything would be alright in the end. HA! How naiive the child has been.

He would be able to kill him tonight, and no one could stop him. He was inside the school where people thought they were safe. Where Potter thought he was safe. Where supposedly no person with dark intentions could roam.

How little Dumbledore understood that just because he wasn't a person didn't mean he couldn't kill. Just because he was a _lowly_ snake, didn't mean he couldn't feel the magic protecting the students. He would easily be able to counter the charms now that he knew what to expect, just as he had as a student so many years ago. He wondered if the dead mudblood's ghost was still haunting the entrance to his childhood playground. He wondered if his Basilisk was still sleeping, ready to be called at a moment's notice.

He tasted the air on his tongue, and noticed something very interesting.

A girl was coming. She was going to be passing directly beside him, probably out alone for her prefect route. So naïve, so perfect. The ideal test of Dumbledore's sloppy warding. She came around the bend of the corridor, her Gryffindor robes swaying as she went.

"Ginny, No!" _It took only a split second to realize that he'd spoken in parseltongue, and that he'd been careless with his own mind. He_ _heard himself speak the words, and Harry felt an angry searing in his scar as he was slammed back into his body full force._

What had he just seen?

Was Ginny about to be sacrificed to the Voldemort God? For a moment, Harry ignored the fact that Voldemort knew where he had been mentally. He scrambled to his feet, and crashed his way out the fat lady portrait. It took him less than a second to realise that he had just released the remnant emotions from the legilimency he had just performed on Voldemort by turning into Greymane. He'd hardly noticed his body change, and he didn't even miss a step.

He pounded the corridors, and gave a loud roar of animalistic terror, calling to her. He sniffed the air, and Sabertooth's frightened cat smell assaulted his senses. She was angry, and in pain. Had she been bitten? Could he get to her in time?

Greymane let out another roar. _Where are you? Are you alright?_

A faint echo of a roar filled his ears. _I'm here! Outside the room of requirement! _She did not say if she was hurt or not, and Harry's fear crept up another notch.

He ran faster than he'd ever remembered running. He stopped at the hidden passage to the seventh floor just long enough to slash his great claws through the tapestry that covered the entrance. The shredded tapestry fell to the floor with a swish and an angry groan. 

He galloped up the spiral stairs toward the room of requirement with fear pounding in his veins. He could feel himself approaching the corner which Ginny the human had come around as Voldemort the snake had watched, preparing to pounce. His breath hitched in his throat, and his claws unsheathed themselves for imminent attack.

He rounded the corner, and stopped dead.

Sabertooth the tiger was sitting placidly in the middle of the hall, breathing heavily, and proudly displaying her now twitching prize. The dead snake was huge. It was black, at least eight feet long, and five centimetres thick. It lay half under one paw, where it's skin was being slowly shredded by sharp bloodied claws. The other half was caught in Sabertooth's teeth, where Greymane could see a sharp crick in the rubbery spine. It had been viciously snapped by her jaws, and drops of crimson blood fell from her bared teeth down to the floor. The snake's semi-glowing black eyes turned red with draining blood as he watched, and the flexible jaw fell open, revealing two four-inch-long white fangs.

If he'd been human, he might have been terrified of this tiger. Instead he breathed a purring sigh of relief. She was safe.

"Mrrrow?"

The sound made Greymane jump back into alarm mode, pivoting one hundred and eighty degrees, and Sabertooth dropped the snake's carcass. Greymane took two steps forward to protect the tiger and her prey from whatever new attacker stood in the shadows.

A small tabby cat with little black lines like glasses around its narrowed eyes stepped around the corner. It's fur raised into a ridge along it's spine, and its tail puffed out to three times it's normal size.

The three cats stared incensed at each other for a moment, before the tabby morphed into the imposing shape of professor McGonagall. She was wearing her nightclothes and a tartan robe cinched tightly around her waist, where she now rested two accusing fists.

"Just what do you two think you are doing? I could hear you roaring at each other from my quarters, and I'm quite sure the rest of the school could hear you as well! If it isn't bad enough that you're out of Gryffindor Tower this late, Potter… "

Greymane stepped aside, and McGonagall gasped at the sight of the dead snake at the bloodied tiger's feet, which was now lying in a patch of moonlight.

"What?… You two had better explain what is going on here!"

As usual, Greymane felt rather reluctant to change back into a human, but did it anyway. McGonagall looked too angry to trifle with.

"Professor," he began, "this is Nagini." He indicated the dead snake, "Or rather it _was_ Nagini."

"Nagini?" she asked, looking confused.

"Voldemort's pet snake."

McGonagall gasped again, and Sabertooth took a few tentative steps away from the dead snake. Obviously she hadn't known the identity of her victim. She quickly changed back into a human, and took a few more tentative steps away from the black mass. She pulled a foul face and spat on the floor, wiping the few traces of blood from her face with the sleeve of her robe. He saw that she was very careful not to use her right hand, which she cradled tentatively close to her chest.

"Are you all right Ginny?" Harry asked her.

"I twisted my foot, er… wrist." She said, gripping the tender hand.

That explained why she smelled like she had been in pain.

"I was afraid she'd gotten you."

"No, I heard something rustling over the carpet right here, but it was dark, and I couldn't see. I thought it was a rat…" she trailed off, and Harry understood. "I decided to turn into a tiger so I could smell whatever it was. I saw this snake, and it nearly took my head off. I jumped to the side, and that's when I twisted my paw…er… my wrist. I jumped on it's tail, and it took another snap at me. I guess I must have smashed it away and grabbed it just behind the head with my teeth. I… I didn't mean to kill it, really. I just… Well, I didn't want it to be anywhere near me. I don't like snakes."

"Completely understandable." McGonagall sniffed righteously. They knew Ginny was thinking about the basilisk she'd unwittingly set upon the students in her first year. "Now where do you fit in to this mister Potter? What have you done this time?"

Harry blushed. "Voldemort likes to possess his pets."

Ginny blanched. "You mean that thing I just… killed… was Voldemort? I thought…"

Harry shook his head. "No, you killed Nagini. Voldemort felt me in his mind this time, and he left the snake the same moment I did. Nagini usually acts as Voldemort's spy, and reports to him because he's a parseltongue like I am. Sometimes Voldemort feels like doing some spying himself, and takes possession of her. He did tonight, and I was watching."

"I think I'm going to throw up." Ginny remarked, holding her left hand to her mouth, and Harry knew how she felt. Killing, no matter whose life was taken, was a horrifying thing. Harry had felt the same way last christmas when Mr. Weasley had been attacked by the very same snake that lay at Ginny's feet. Even now, Harry felt more snakelike than ever, and longed to turn himself back into Greymane so the feeling would disappear. The thought gave him an idea.

"Turn yourself back into Sabertooth. You'll feel all right if you can't think too hard about it." Harry told her.

She complied quickly, and the wounded tiger began to limp towards the door.

"Sabertooth, let me see that paw." Harry urged.

She turned around, and tentatively placed her sore paw up on his thigh. She let him cast a mild healing charm on the sprain, and then he prodded the spot to make sure all of the tenderness had gone. He was very glad she had been able to defend herself tonight. Voldemort and Nagini had definitely been out for blood.

Once it was finished, he turned to professor McGonagall, who was still white as a sheet, and staring at the huge dead snake. "We need to take Nagini's body to Dumbledore." He told her. "He needs to know, and we can't leave it here."

She nodded, but made no attempt to move toward the snake.

Harry sighed, and turned himself into Greymane. He walked over to the mangled corpse, and took it up in his jaws.

McGonagall sighed with obvious relief, and turned herself back into the tabby cat to accompany Sabertooth and Greymane up to Dumbledore's office.

* * *

"But how did Nagini get into the school?" Hermione asked the obvious question the next morning at breakfast. She, Ron, and Harry had their heads together as usual, and nobody interrupted them, or questioned it. Harry knew a few people might be trying to eavesdrop, so they kept their voices low. 

Harry shook his head. "No one knows. I asked Dumbledore if he's been tracking the passage from Honeydukes now that he knows about it, but he said it wasn't possible for the snake to get in there. He's charmed entrance so that people -and animals too- can only _leave_ through it, they can't come back in to the school through there unless they know the password."

"Who else knows the password?" Ron piped up.

"Only Dumbledore and McGonagall so far. They wouldn't tell me." Harry grieved the loss of his beloved passage, and he wished the Marauder's map had extended as far out as Hogsmeade. If it had, then it would have been relatively simple to get the password. The map knew nearly everything about the school, and it could tell him passwords to everything except professors' quarters and offices. When he was looking for it, he'd even found the room of requirement. It seemed that the map only showed the room when you had a real need of it.

"Are there any other passages that Dumbledore doesn't know about?" Ron asked.

"None that the map shows. There are four that filch knows about. Then there's the one into Honeydukes that Dumbledore's charmed.The one that Fred and George told me was collapsed in behind the mirror on the fourth floor. Then there's the one under the Whomping Willow, and no one can use that one unless they know how to freeze the tree."

"No others?"

"None."

The detectives had hit a snag.

"If Nagini were still alive, you could cross examine her." Hermione pointed out to Harry. "Parseltongue and all."

"Don't you ever say something like that again." Ron said, sounding surprisingly incensed. "If that snake were still alive, then my sister would be dead right now."

"Oh, Ron! I didn't mean it like that! I just… Aarrgh!" she growled, obviously frustrated with the lack of information they had collected.

Ginny wandered in and took a seat beside Harry. She looked as if she hadn't slept.

"Are you all right Gin" Ron asked her, sounding very big-brotherish.

Ginny nodded. "I'm fine."

Anyone watching could have known she was lying.

"Ginny?" Harry asked. "Are you really all right?"

Obviously Ginny remembered their conversation earlier in the year while flying over the quidditch pitch, because her deadpanned face went suddenly dark and full of anguish.

"I feel lousy." She answered finally. "I killed something last night. And no matter how evil that creature was, it was still alive, and I killed it." The thought was obviously eating away at her conscience. Harry couldn't help but notice how similar her current dilemma was to his future one. He put an arm around her shoulders, and squeezed, feeling more reluctant to let go than he'd anticipated.

"I know killing isn't something done easily, but where would you be without it?"

"Probably six feet under right about now." She answered honestly.

"And what about the other people Nagini would have killed last night? Didn't you say that you could kill if it meant saving your friends?"

Ginny's eyebrows lifted in astonishment. "Was it going to kill people? I thought it was just there to spy?"

Harry wasn't sure what to say. He really hadn't told anyone much about Voldemort's thoughts while he was roaming the halls as a snake. Ginny, above all people, deserved to know. "Voldemort was thinking that he wanted to have what he lovingly termed a 'Mudblood feast'. I could tell that Nagini was feeling the same sense of anticipation. I can't imagine what he would have done if you hadn't stopped her last night."

Hermione paled a little.

Ginny nodded. She still looked less than pleased with herself.

"I won't tell you to feel better about it, because that's not possible." Harry told her. "Just try and remember that you were defending innocent people while you were doing it."

Ginny looked miserable.

"Think about what I'm going to have to do. Is it so very different?" He nearly whispered.

Ginny looked up at him in alarm. "But Voldemort isn't an innocent! People's pets-"

"Neither was Nagini." Harry quickly interrupted. "She knew what she was doing. She has only ever worked for Voldemort willingly. You're confusing Nagini with someone else's pet. Nagini is more sentient than most, since Voldemort talks to her. I think he sort of sees her as one of his spies and advisors. She wasn't uninformed or innocent at all, Gin."

"Oh."

"Don't worry. You'll feel better."

"Okay." She didn't sound convinced.

Harry suddenly remembered something interesting. "You know, Ginny, I think you're really very good at defense. You got thesnakein only about three seconds. The longer any fight goes on, the more the risk you are, since your attacker might get a chance to plan out a strategy. . It took me a hell of a lot longer to kill the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets, and I even got a poisonous fang in the arm for my trouble."

Ginny's eyes met his, and he thought he saw a twinkle of pleasure in her eye. He was reminding her that he had already killed something, and that he didn't dare feel remorseful. The fact that it had been to _save her_ _life_ made it all that more significant. Perhaps it wasn't quite on the same scale, but she had saved lives, and that was all that mattered in the end.

"Thank you, Harry." He could tell by the intensity of her voice that she was thanking him for comforting her today, and also for saving her life back four years ago, in the Chamber of Secrets.

"Don't mention it." Harry patted her hand nonchalantly. "I can't say that it was a barrel of laughs, but I'm glad I did. Got to keep my fans happy somehow." 

Ginny suddenly grinned. "That's the first time I've ever heard you even _allude_ to your own status in the wizarding world without cringing."

Harry, of course, cringed, and the sight made Ginny chuckle.

"C'mon Harry. We've got to go." Ron was trying not to show the fact that he was grinning very much like his animagus form often did. He reluctantly tugged Harry away from the table to head to Philosophy.

Harry nodded back to Ginny, whose beaming smile finally looked genuine.

* * *

With Ginny's attack had come the realisation that Harry couldn't stop this. He couldn't make time stop for him to prepare, and he couldn't look into the future to know how things would turn out. He just had to keep plodding on day by day, putting his 'saving people thing' into action whenever he could. 

He could no longer save himself for the final battle, because he knew that if he did that, then he would never have any real experience to teach him the skills he needed in the end.

Yes, people might be depending on him to kill Voldemort, but he couldn't keep out of things until that moment. He was a part of this now, and no one could tell him otherwise. The battles would be fought with him or without him, and Harry would rather be there as often as possible. Just because he was destined to be saving people in the future, didn't mean he couldn't start _now_ by doing his best. In fact, now that he was feeling reasonably comfortable with his lot in life, and his duelling skills, he might even be persuaded even to seek out danger, just to really train himself up. No unnecessary danger, of course, and he didn't have a death-wish, but sometimes the best results he'd seen in himself were when he was put under fire.

Surprisingly, the twinges he'd felt in his scar over the last few days since Nagini's attack had been a lot less painful, although they were still there. He knew that despite Voldemort's sudden lack of tangible emotions, he was planning something. Besides, he'd successfully entered into Hogwarts once already. How was anyone to know that he wouldn't do it again?

This was why Harry was sitting awake in bed, repetitively reading the Marauder's Map just after midnight on Thursday night. He had the horrible feeling that the weak pains he'd been having in his scar all day were the precursor to something major. He knew Voldemort had something planned, but he had no proof of when or where Voldemort and his Death-Eaters would strike. He could only keep vigilant and make certain that the chosen venue for the attack was not Hogwarts or another place that contained people he knew. It might have been a bit selfish to hope Voldemort would attack elsewhere, but right now he had to look after his own. He, Ron and Hermione had been alternating watch on the marauder's map every night since Ginny's attack, but Ron and Hermione were out on prefect duty until two tonight, and Harry had to take the first watch.

Ron and Hermione's dots moved slowly down the third floor, pausing here and there, as if they were having an argument. Harry's eyes flicked over to where he could see professors Vector and McGonagall's spots moving parallel to each other two floors apart. He was glad that Dumbledore had put the teachers on round the clock watches, and felt a little sorry for them, they couldn't be getting very much sleep for sure.

He had been searching the map intently for the past three hours, waiting for something to happen. He had almost been able to convince himself that he was early, and that it would probably happen Friday night on Malfoy's duty instead.

It figured.

The Slytherins would probably let the Death-Eaters in the front gate while they were on duty or something. Malfoy would soon be the right hand 'boy' of the Dark Lord.

Harry yawned. The map wasn't going to help him tonight. He'd better meditate before he slept. The twinges in his scar were frustrating, and the more he meditated, the easier it would be to block them out.

There it went again.

Just a fizzling heat that couldn't be denied as anticipation. It went running from the scar on his forehead, shivering down his back and lodged somewhere in his gut, telling him that something was wrong. Not really painful, but definitely a warning sign. He tried to open his mind up to Voldemort's, and he could feel a barrier between them. Something was stopping the connection.

He sighed in semi-defeat, then gave a halfhearted laugh. He'd told everyone that he didn't want to act as a Voldemort radar, and here he was, doing it intentionally. He was a hypocrite.

He checked the map over one last time before putting it away, and laying down on the sheets. It was a warm night, so he'd folded up his comforter, and it sat on his trunk near his feet.

His scar twinged again.

He sat up, and pulled out the map once more just to be sure.

_I'm getting paranoid._ He thought, scanning the parchment thoroughly.

He jumped in alarm as he suddenly noticed two new dots appearing at the corner of the page. He waited for names to appear, adrenaline pumping its way through his system.

_Or maybe not! _He gaped at the horrible names.

Lucius Malfoy and MacNair the executioner were coming to Hogwarts.

The two Death-Eaters were creeping very slowly down the secret passage, which until now, Harry had thought to be caved in. In less than five minutes, they would reach the fourth-floor hallway and emerge just behind the tall gilded mirror just three doors away from the Ravenclaw dormitory.

And they would be coming out right next to Hermione and Ron, who were now headed that way. Harry whipped his hand over to his ward beads, which sat docilely on his side table. Two of them were hot, Ron's orange one, and Hermione's green one were telling him that they would soon be in immediate danger. Everyone else's beads glowed warm except for Remus' blue one, since he was obviously nowhere near the school.

They're all in danger. Why are they all in danger if it's just two Death-Eaters? How much damage can two Death-Eaters cause? 

He considered just waking Neville, and just going to rescue Ron and Hermione himself, and have Neville along as backup.

As Harry moved quietly toward Neville's bed, two more dots appeared at the edge of the map. These new dots were labelled _Rodolphus Lestrange_ and _Antonin Dolohov. _It was Bellatrix's husband, coming to avenge his wife's death, and an attacker from last year's incident at the Department of mysteries.

Two more names appeared while Harry stood staring dumbstruck at the page.

Voldemort was sending in his entire army.

Harry decided not to waste a second more, and didn't even bother to read the names beside the dots. It was literally time to rouse the troops.

"Neville! Seamus! Dean! If you've ever valued your experiences in the DA, you will wake up at this very moment!" he nearly screamed the command, and it was less than twenty seconds before they joined him at the door, shaking and white-faced in their pyjamas with their wands clasped in their fists.

He showed them the map he held, and pointed to the dots. "Voldemort's army is sneaking in to Hogwarts, and no one knows it but us. I need you to be my envoys to the other houses. We need as much of the DA and all of the teachers you can find. Seamus, go to Slytherin. It's in the dungeon down the hall from Snape's classroom.There are serpents above the doorway. I want anyone with the ability to fight, but no first, second or third years. They won't be able to keep up. Some of the other Slytherins may already know about this attack, and they won't be happy that we've warned the others, so _be careful, and watch your back!_ The map won't tell me that particular password, so just knock loudly until someone answers, or try and rouse Snape, whose quarters are right next to it under that weird gothic archway."

Seamus nodded, looking pale. "Right."

"Neville, you've got Hufflepuff. You know where their common room is?"

"I remember the map." Neville said stonily. He was much more under control than Harry had expected him to be.

"Good. The password this week is 'Rainbow greenhouse.' Dean, you've got Ravenclaw. We'll go together, as we're both heading to the fourth floor. You can't knock on the door there. It'll be too loud. Luna's told me the password just in case. It's 'Runic Numerology.' Try and avoid the fourth floor corridor as much as possible. That's where this passage exits. If you are able to, and happen to meet some on the way, get teachers to come and help. I'll send someone to get Dumbledore once that's done. Do you all understand?"

The three white faces nodded.

"You've got your wands with you?"

Another round of nods was his answer.

"And you're willing to do this? I don't want anyone who hasn't committed themselves to fighting."

This time the nods were fierce and determined.

"Right. I'll let you know in a really obvious way when to attack."

Harry didn't have to say it twice. Neville and Seamus peeled out of the tower so fast he thought he maybe hadn't seen them.

Harry and Dean ran out the door of their dormitory, down the swirling staircase and into the common room.

The two didn't wait for anyone else, and they exited the common room, turning in the opposite direction from where he knew Neville and Seamus had gone. He knew the girls dormitory wouldn't let them go up, so that meant he would have to send Hermione once she was notified. He would tell her to wake everyone else in Gryffindor, since they hadn't bothered to stop and spread the news. It would take far too long, and they needed to be in position fast, before those dots walked out into the fourth floor corridor.

Harry held the map out before him as he ran, watching as the dots in the hidden passage multiplied. Eight, then twelve, then twenty…

More were coming.

Malfoy and MacNair were still the first ones in line, and they were just over a hundred metres from the exit behind the mirror when Harry and Dean reached the fourth floor. Harry pointed silently at the staircase leading to the Ravenclaw dormitory, and Dean slipped up the steps. He heard him whisper, "Runic Numerology," to the wall, and a navy blue tapestry slid out of the way.

Harry hoped that the map wasn't lying.

The map didn't lie.

He didn't have to worry about that part. He should focus on Ron and Hermione.

Harry's only consolation was the thought that Ron and Hermione seemed to have moved further along the passage, and weren't immediately next to the mirror anymore.

But Harry was.

Lucius Malfoy and MacNair were less than fourty metres away from him here, and they were around a small corner. They wouldn't be able to see him. He poked his wand back there, and cast a quick impenetrable charm over the opening.

Harry grabbed the mirror and pushed. He pushed with all his strength, until the heavy mirror was completely blocking the entrance, and he put a gravity fortifying charm on the mirror to make it heavier to move. It wasn't as effective as dipping it in Neville's gravity potion, but it might give him a bit of time if they had to figure out why they were suddenly blocked in. Any self-respecting Death-Eater could remove the impenetrable charm once they realised what it was. It wasn't great, but it was something. He wished he had taken some time this year to work on more complicated protection barriers.

He ran down the hall until Ron and Hermione's low voices came to him.

"Ron! Hermione!" He hissed at their backs.

"Harry?" Ron asked, a little too loud and understandably surprised.

"They're here Ron! The Death-Eaters! Go to Dumbledore's office, and tell him! The password is 'Berry Bubbles'. Get him to alert the Order. Come back to this spot. You're sure to hear about it from Neville or Seamus if you stay just there." He pointed. "That's where the DA is meeting."

Ron was no longer standing in the hall then. Sidetrack's white tipped tail whipped out of sight down to the third floor.

"Hermoine! I didn't have time to wake the rest of the DA in Gryffindor! I need you to do that. No younger students, all right? Get them to join the same group by the stairwell."

The Horned Owl gave a soft hoot, and fluttered up into the darkness of the tower.

Now, all Harry could do was wait and observe.

He heard a clunking sound coming from behind the mirror, and he slipped himself around the back of a tapestry to watch the dots on his map try to move the mirror away from their blocked entrance. As he'd suspected, they hadn't had any trouble with the impenetrable charm.

They succeeded, rather faster than Harry had hoped, and Malfoy and MacNair slid out into the deserted corridor. "It looks smaller than it used to, doesn't it?" Harry heard MacNair comment in a cackling whisper.

He eyed the map again.

It was at that moment that Harry truly understood that something horrible would happen this night. It was at that moment that he saw the importance of his place in the wizarding world.

Just as Malfoy and MacNair were stepping free of the secret passage inside Hogwarts, another name was appearing on the edge of the Marauder's Map.

_Tom Riddle_.

Harry had no choice. He would be coming face to face with Voldemort tonight, and according to Trelawney's latest prophecy, he would have to decide a price of some sort. Harry mentally steeled himself for the difficult choice.

The Death-Eaters had almost fully grouped in the fourth-floor corridor when Harry noticed the DA amassing on the map. They were in the wide stairwell to his right, where Sidetrack and Eyespy had disappeared, and also in the spiralling stairwell up to Ravenclaw Tower on his left. He saw Ginny move from person to person, and one by one they set themselves up into wider lines, each one, finding a partner that they'd worked with before during evasion games. Harry knew Ginny had given the command, and in doing so, had unknowingly made herself the leader. She chose to work beside Colin Creevey, and stood near the front of the group with Hermione and Ron, who both scurried in at the last second.

Voldemort himself had not yet arrived, nor had any of the teachers, but it seemed that now was the time to begin before the numbers got any worse, or the Death-Eaters started attacking. They needed the element of surprise if they were to succeed. The longer he waited, the more chance of being discovered. He wiped the map clear with soundless magic, and stuffed it into his robes.

Harry changed himself silently into Greymane behind the tapestry.

He sniffed the air quietly, analysing how near the nearest Death-Eater was, took a deep breath, and roared as loudly as possible.

"What the?!" Malfoy's lisping voice was closest to the tall tapestry, and he moved forward to pull it aside.

At that moment, hexes started whizzing in from either side, and Voldemort's army of about thirty Death-Eaters was caught in the middle of the blaze. The mirror crashed to the floor as the Death-Eaters behind it gave up on their attempt to be silent, and plowed their way through the over weighted glass.

Malfoy, who had ducked, was obviously still curious about the roaring creature behind the curtain. He moved forward and yanked the tapestry from its moorings.

He caught the full blast of Harry's melting charm directly in the face.

Malfoy screamed, and leapt backwards clutching at his burning skin. The white mask he wore was slowly fusing itself to his cheeks and forehead. He scrabbled at his eyes screaming, and Harry realised that the melted plastic was blinding him. Through cloudy burning vision, he tried to point his wand back at Harry, but Harry disarmed him and went on to deal with the Death-Eater beside him.

"Dentera!"

The Death-Eater squealed, his mouth spraying blood. He could no longer speak the curses and hexes properly, and it was weak magic at best when he tried to send a severing charm to Harry's arm. A thin scratch, a bit like one he got when Crookshanks was angry at him drew it's way across Harry's arm, and he smirked at the useless attempt. He threw a trip jinx at the man, and the Death-Eater went sprawling to the floor, his wand rolling away from him and his hands going up to cover his now bloodied mouth.

He got another Death-Eater with impedimenta, then when the slow-motion man didn't stop moving towards him, he threw in a stunning charm just to keep him out of the way.

Once the immediate vicinity was voided of most danger, Harry held up the strongest shield he could, came forward from his hiding spot, and did a quick scan of the hall. He saw that the Ravenclaws, who had come in from the opposite side as everyone else were having more trouble than Ron and Hermioine's side. To his right all of the other houses had amassed, including, to his surprise, quite a few older Slytherins that were not part of the DA. They seemed to be fighting alongside his friends, however, and Harry couldn't think too long on it.

He moved towards his left to help the Ravenclaws, cursing Death-Eaters and trying to ignore the oddly weak twinging of his scar that told him Voldemort was near.

Harry was able to battle two more Death-Eaters to the ground before he noticed the fight was turning against them. Where Harry and the DA had the element of surprise on their side, the Death-Eaters had more numbers and they had plenty more experience with fighting.

They also had the killing curse.

Harry saw four of his friends fall to the floor unconscious or injured before the last Death-Eater came into the hallway. Nonetheless, he plowed on throwing curses, dodging hexes, and building shields and such until he was sweaty and tired. The adrenaline kept him on his feet, and he backed up against the wall, to keep from having to keep looking over his shoulder.

Then at last, Harry stared across the corridor in disbelief as Voldemort himself stepped calmly through the space which the gilded mirror had previously occupied.

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A/N: I promise to update again as soon as I see another computer. I'm excited at having this whole thing almost posted, and I want to get it done as soon as possible! 


	37. When Next Light Faces Dark

A/N: Hopefully this is what everyone has been waiting for. I wanted to make a few corrections to the last chapter, since I didn't actually show it to Loony Laura before posting. (She really is quite anal retentive about these things, and I should ask for her guidance more often.) First off, the snake Nagini was five INCHES thick, not five centimetres. That's just my Canadian side rearing its ugly head. Second, I first had Harry tell Ginny 'I won't tell you to feel better about it, because that's not possible.' Then I had him say only a few sentences later, (stupid me) 'Don't worry, you'll feel better.' Fine, I admit I'm a dunce. Thank you Loony!

Voldemort Disclaimer: I shall wipe the earth clean of all those who dare oppose my views. Mudbloods and Muggles will cower in terror at my feet, and some day I will own this story. Not today, but my immortal self will eventually rule all, so the story will also be mine, oh yes. It will be mine. (fiendish ear-splitting cackle.)

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**Chapter Thirty-seven – ** **When Next Light Faces Dark**

Tom Riddle's eyes were more snakelike than ever in the flickering torchlight, and in them, Harry could see the depth of many ages.

Now that he could look upon the Dark-Lord's face without his scar searing with excruciating pain,Harrycould analyse his features. It was much like what Harry thought it would feel to be looking into the eyes of a vampire. So much intelligence and cunning, but no soul to be seen. It took Harry a moment to realize that Voldemort was looking directly at him, and that although Harry was looking for his mind, he had somehow blocked Harry out completely.

_That's why the pain in my scar isn't so bad right now. _Harry realised._ He knows what I've been doing to him all year. He's found a way to block me._

Harry immediately threw a typical stunner at him, which Voldemort blocked effortlessly with a casual wave of his wand. Harry decided immediately that his job here tonight would be to keep Voldemort away from the rest of his friends. If he succeeded in keeping him occupied, at least until Dumbledore could arrive, then his mission would be fulfilled. There was really nowhere to hide here, so Harry would have to rely on his feet to get him out of the way quickly. This was an advantage he held over Voldemort. A young boy with plenty of recent practice would certainly be more agile than an old man who was more than seventy, wouldn't he?

Once again, Harry was proved wrong, as the Dark Lord leapt away from his disfigurement charm like a spry teen. He shot back with a cutting curse, and Harry felt the curse slash his hip just as he leapt away. He cried out, and toppled to the ground, his hip numb. Voldemort turned away, looking for new prey, obviously disappointed with the weakness of his foe.

He aimed his wand over at Ginny, who was now alone and facing away from them, still not aware of the Dark Lord's arrival. Voldemort looked over at Harry with a wicked grin. He knew full well that he was now aiming at one of Harry's best friends. He also obviously recognised her as the girl who had likely killed his pet and spy Nagini, and by the twisted expression of glee on his face as he pointed his wand, he conveyed the fact that this was one of the worst actions he could take against Harry. He wanted Harry to see it.

Harry almost heard the words before they were spoken, and he raised his wand quickly to avert disaster.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Harry had sent a quick soundless stinging hex at Voldemort's hand, and Voldemort flinched, whipping his wand back to face Harry when his attack on Ginny went wild and hit the wall. "Trying to hog me to yourself, Harry?" Voldemort screeched gleefully. "How noble!"

Ginny, who had felt the heat of Voldemort's spell, neatlydispatched her current foe with a well aimed stunning spell, turned and gaped at the sight of Voldemort holding his wand on Harry, who was also pointing his own back at the Dark Lord. It was the first time she'd come face to face with the man responsible for her disastrous first-year, and the horrified expression on her face showed clearly how intensely this sight had affected her.

Harry didn't dare take his eyes off of Voldemort, but he was able to wave his left hand at Ginny, to let her know that he wanted her to stand elsewhere. Somewhere away from this fight.

She nodded at Harry with wide eyes, and began to fight her way down the hall, staying carefully away from Harry and Voldemort's duel. From the edge of his vision, Harry saw her find herself another partner in the form of Hannah, and the two of them resumed covering each other's backs using evasion techniques.

In the slight pause while Harry and Voldemort had their stand off, he also noticed a group of teachers join the fight out of the corner of his eye. Hagrid and Grawp were more obvious than any other people when they came in behind professor Trelawney. Hagrid came forward brandishing his pink umbrella, shooting spells with the tip. Grawp the giant, who stood more than twelve feet above the crowd failed his fists, whipping Death-Eaters aside like they were ratty old robes. The stunners and curses that flew at them simply rebounded off their hardened giant skin.

"So long as I've got your attention, they don't" Harry finally answered Voldemort's cackle with a laugh of his own, although he didn't feel like laughing, and threw a leglocking curse at him. Voldemort quickly conjured an intricate silver shield, which the curse rebounded from, bouncing back towards the teen. Harry scowled, remembering the last time he'd seen that shield.It had been the night of Sirius' death. He quickly conjured his own shield, bronze and gleaming, and the rebounded spell hit it like a gong and flashed up into the ceiling, leaving a black scorchmark. He hadn't bothered to send it back at Voldemort, since the Dark Lord's shield was still in place. Instead he decided to shoot a more complicated poisoning spell, which would require Voldemort to alter his shield type.

Voldemortdid change his shield to an invisible ailments barrier, and Harry was able to quickly throw another stinging hex at him through the wall which was meant to repel only viral attacks.

Remus was battling along with Hermione at the far end of the hall. They didn't seem to be having too much trouble, and Harry could only hope that none of them got hurt tonight. The hallway was now getting crowded, and the sight of a good number of unmoving bodies littering the floor terrified Harry. Fawkes flew from person to person, crying tears into their wounds, and soothing their fears.

Voldemort sent three cutting curses in succession, and Harry was able to stop two of them by catching them deftly with the tip of his wand, ready to send back out towards the caster. The third bolt narrowly scraped past Harry's shoulder, leaving his robes torn, and the sensation of fresh blood trickling down toward the fingers of his left hand. The pain was barely noticeable what with the adrenaline beginning to pump through his veins, and Harry wasted no time in sending the two beaded cutting curses back at Voldemort from where they had collected in the tip of his wand. Neither bolt made their target, but it was enough to give Harry some proper time to think.

Professor Snape swept through the battle like a great bat, distracting both Harry and Voldemort at the same moment. No one stopped him. To the Death-Eaters, he looked like he was coming forward to proclaim his allegiance with his lord, while only the pack and a select few teachers understood otherwise. Snape came forward, moving neither to Voldemort, nor to Harry. He stopped just short of the fight, and Voldemort paused to glare at him.

"So, are you a traitor?" He asked impatiently, keeping his wand carefully trained on Harry. "Or are you not?"

"I am not a traitor, lord." Snape said carefully. "Not to the correct people, at least." He quickly fired off three heavy curses, leaving three Death-Eaters unconscious on the floor behind him, even though he had now lost his wand to a disarming charm.

Voldemort smirked. "I thought as much." He moved to strike Snape down, pointing his wand almost lazily at the now unarmed professor. Snape looked like he might actually be ready to die. He had closed his eyes, and to Harry, he looked as if he was simply waiting for the inevitable. It was a sort of suicide, Harry realized.

Harry had used the time given to him by conjuring a floating rebound shield between himself and Voldemort. He saw what Snape was doing, and held out his left palm, pointing it upwards and cupping his fingers.

Bluebell flames erupted into Harry's hand, and he wasted no time in lobbing the ball of fire at his distracted nemesis, sending off a tripping jinx with his wand at the same time.

One good thing about all of the juggling and pitching practice he'd gotten while demonstrating to the DA, was that his aim had improved immeasurably. The fire hit Voldemort directly in the chest, and he pitched backwards over the tripping jinx, his swirling black cloak flying up over his head. Harry summoned Snape's loose wand, and tossed it to him.

Snape was immediately set upon by four other Death-Eaters, who although they hadn't seen his quick fighting before, they had recognised the significance of their comrade's actions, and his seeming cooperation with their Dark Lord's arch nemesis. Anyone couldhave knownwhat it meant.

Harry stepped forward to help Snape.

He stopped short when he realised that Snape seemed to have it all easily under control now. The potions professor slashed with his wand and swirled. The shots of magic flew faster than Harry had ever seen. Snape's duelling form was immaculate, rivalled only by that of Dumbledore, who was dramatically fighting with six shadows at the other end of the fourth floor. Harry had a sudden ridiculous memory pop into his head of Snape in his first year, saying that there would be no 'silly wand waving' in his class.

He obviously didn't find wand waving quite as 'silly' as he'd let on. In fact, Harry realized that although Snape was obviously very adept at defensive magic, he wouldn't have been able to do anything of this sort _without_ a wand.

In less than six seconds, the four Death-Eaters Snape had caught in his web of hexes had been accordingly dealt with. He also took an extra two seconds to shoot a stunner at an unknown Death-Eater who was sneaking up on a distracted Ernie MacMillan across the hall, and another second to take out one of the robed figures who was creeping up on a lone Slytherin student.

Harry was struck very suddenly with the realisation that indeed, professor Severus Snape was fighting on their side.

And he was winning.

A swish of light out of the corner of Harry's eye, made him leap out of the way. He remembered thenwhat his self-appointed mission was, and turned just as Voldemort was getting to his feet. His red eyes flashed in the flickering light of the hall torches, and his now smoking robes puffed out the image of pure rage and power.

For a moment, Harry felt intense fear, but he squelched it, and held his wand at the ready, waitingfor Voldemort to make a move.

_"Avada Kedavra!"_ Voldemort was still far enough away at the moment he sent the curse for Harry to quickstep out of the way. The death curse went over Harry's shoulder, and Harry _felt _more than saw the green light explode against the castle wall behind him, making the stone blast outwards, leaving a deep dent.

"I supposed that one would miss you, Harry." Voldemort sneered in his creaky voice. "I am pleased."

_So am I,_ thought Harry.

"I want you alive so you can watch as your friends and teachers fall." Voldemort's red eyes flashed again violently, and his lipless mouth twisted into a sneer.

"What about your prophecy?" Harry asked him, sending a soundless mouth mastication charm at him. Voldemort ducked almost lazily, as if he had been expecting it. "Don't you want to hear it?!" Harry yelled, hoping he could distract the Dark Lord from his task.

Voldemort's eyes snapped to the middle of the hall, where Harry could see professor Trelawney on the floor caught in the chill of a glacé charm. She was frozen in place, her body covered in a light dusting of frost. Harry nearly rolled his eyes, knowing she had been trying to fight fair again. He also realised that he'd gotten just as distracted by his own comment. He focused his mind back on his fight.

"I have no fear of the prophecy." Voldemort eyed the professor again as he sent a rope bind toward Harry. Harry shot the ropes off to the side where they wrapped around one of the Death-Eaters now battling with Lavender and Seamus, who were fighting back to back against three. The least he could do was make the battle as even as possible for them. They'd only ever worked two on two. He logged it away in his brain as something to remedy in the DA meetings, should he live through tonight.

With his next shot, Voldemort forced Harry closer to Trelawney's body, making him leap out of the way of a lashing hex. Harry heard a body fall behind him, but he couldn't bring himself to look. "I understand that very few people have heard this prophecy. I have no need to fear _you_ or this prophecy, when the whole thing will die with _her_." He pointed his wand at her prone body. "If I can't hear the prophecy, then no one will. Ever. _Avada Kedavra!"_

"_Cambre!" _

Harry was desperate, and had no way of knowing if it would work. He'd reacted too slowly to stop the curse at it's source, and the warping charm was the only thing he could think of which might stop a curse that had already been shot. The killing curse was said to be impossible to block. It went without saying that the curse would be impossible to warp either.

To someone who hadn't seen the results of brother wands meeting in battle, it might have seemed for a moment as though time itself had come to a stop.

The curses met each other in an 'L' shape. Voldemort's an intense green, and Harry's a bright blue. They met each other at a bead of pure white light that was impossible to stare at directly lest the viewer leave with spots in their eyes. The thin lines of power connected and held steady. Neither one going any further toward their intended destination.

Harry looked over at Voldemort, who was holding his shuddering wand as still as he could, and trying to bring the spell around so it was pointing at Harry instead of Trelawney.

Harry knew that if the spell were aimed at him, he could duck it quickly enough once he let go. If it was under his control then he could easily deal with it, so he tried to bring it around to face him as well.

It didn't work. The spells were stuck in a ninety degree angle, and no one could escape.

The only options for Voldemort, were to press forward and try to get the spell through, or lift his wand away and release the spell, with the possible repercussion of the spell backfiring upon himself and killing him. It was obvious that Harry, who was now a cunning and intelligent dueler, would be aiming the warping spell to rebound directly at its caster.

_Harry's_ only options were to lift his wand away and release the spell, thus killing professor Trelawney, or to press on and hope Voldemort would give in first.

And so they were at a standstill while the battle continued to rage around them.

The rest of the Order had arrived, with a large number of Aurors and took over the largest part of the battle while Harry and Voldemort duelled their wills against one another in the middle of the fray. Harry heard most of the fighting wrap up with a number of arrests being made, and antiapparition chains being conjured to take away numerous Death-Eater prisoners. A few other battles were still ongoing, but Harry couldn't see who they were. He wondered why the Death-Eaters didn't bother to use their special portkeys. He knew they must have them.

All the while, he brought up wells of power he had never known to be inside him to press against Voldemort's.

Phoenix song then began to sound above them, and a dome of crisscrossing golden threads began to slowly form around Harry, Voldemort and Trelawney. People stopped what they were doing to watch the spectacle of Harry and his nemesis fighting as though caught in time. A few of them paid very dearly for it.

Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Luna stepped out of the crowd, looking beaten and bruised, but alive. Neville lay half-sitting not far away, clutching at an injured leg. Harry knew he'd been the victim of Voldemort's lashing curse. They all stared at the dome with wonder and amazement.

A loose spell shot towards them, and sizzled out against the edge of the dome. Dumbledore hurried forward, sending a release spell at Trelawney that also fizzled out on the dome before it reached her.

Harry and Voldemort held steady, neither one willing to give up the game. Beads of light began to shoot back and forth between the point of light joining their spells at a ninety degree angle.

Harry's wand began to heat up painfully and the phoenix song called louder. It filled his heart and he almost felt his power itself heat up with the increased volume. It seemed for a second that _two_ phoenixes were singing in harmony, and Harry realised why. Fawkes the Phoenix flew over to them, and circled the enclosure twice. He obviously couldn't do anything for them, since the power of his feathers was now in Harry and Voldemort's hands. It was a stand off he couldn't stop.

Both of their wands began to vibrate with the power they were exhuding. Both Harry and Voldemort seemed to be equally matched this time, and the bead of light joining them did not move. No matter how much more power Harry put into the fight, Voldemort seemed to be able to just barely match him, and vice-versa. Obviously, Voldemort had been unprepared for Harry's strength the first time, but not now. Now they were equal.

"Don't give up Harry!" he heard Hermione's voice call desperately from outside the dome.

"Press on mate!" Ron joined in, and Harry pressed on.

Voldemort pressed back, and the light remained unmoving. Harry knew that if the light were to be forced either direction, the one losing wand would end up regurgitaing shadows of its most recent spells. It was not a horrible thing, to be sure, but somehow Harry knew it was more than that. Like maybe it was a form of power drain too.

Voldemort laughed at him, and even though the sound was quite forced, it felt almost as if Harry were slowly being drained of his power. The connection weakened for a second, and the light slipped gingerly towards Harry.

"No! Stay strong, Harry!" he heard Ginny yell. Her sudden pleading felt like a verbal slap in the face to wake him up, and he growled, forcing the light back towards Voldemort again.

It stopped, as Voldemort sneered, tensing his shoulders and gritting his teeth against the onslaught.

Dumbledore attempted a few desperate spells against the exterior of the golden dome, but nothing worked. He put his hand up to the side of the dome, and slowly dragged one finger through the light.

That's all it was after all, just light. Dumbledore's hand passed through the barrier with ease, making ripples form as if it were passing through water. He didn't wince. He didn't look happy or upset.

He looked simply resigned.

Dumbledore stepped into the dome.

"What do you think you're doing professor?!" Harry ground out through clenched teeth. He was sweating heavily, and his stomach was tensed uncomfortably. He could see Voldemort looking a little green from both the bright light of his own curse, and also from the apparent effort of keeping matched with Harry to the end. The fury intheDark Lord'seyes flared as he realised that Dumbledore was interfering again.

Dumbledore attempted another release charm on Trelawney from inside the barrier, and nothing happened. His wand emitted no power whatsoever while he stood in the glare of Harry and Voldemort's connected wands. Here, in the dome of phoenix magic, Albus Dumbledore was no more powerful than a muggle.

He walked over to Trelawney, and attempted to lift her out of the way.

Trelawney's body was frozen to the floor.

She wouldn't budge.

He moved towards Voldemort, and tried to push him out of the way physically.

Dumbledore gasped and reeled away, clutching at his hands. He'd been stung somehow, and Voldemort wouldn't budge. The Dark Lord even let off an aggressive growl of anger at Dumbledore's insolence, and pushed the bead further toward Harry.

Harry pushed back, nearly groaning with the effort. He thought he might just pass out soon from the intensity. His palms were burning with heat, and he smelled a bit of singed flesh. A wisp of smoke emitted from Voldemort's hand too, but he didn't dare let anyone see that he was finding it painful.

Dumbledore stepped back towards the connected bead of light, and analyzed the glowing spot.

He stood there staring at the light for a long thoughtful second, and the people outside the dome held their breath.

Finally he spoke. "When a person knows what they are doing, they cannot be innocent." He told Harry sadly.

"To protect the innocent." Harry muttered absently, trying to focus as hard as he could on holding the connection.

When Dumbledore began to walk forward, it was then Harry understood.

He had a split second to decide whether he should lift the spell, and let Voldemort kill Trelawney, or keep the spell strong and have him kill Dumbledore instead.

It was his choice now.

One or the other.

Voldemort's eyes widened in anticipation. He would be killing someone today whether Harry liked it or not.

Harry's heart leapt into his throat. He couldn't do this. He couldn't decide.

Dumbledore, no matter his shortcomings, had always been like a grandfather to Harry. How could he just _let_ him die?

Harry didn't like Trelawney as a teacher, but she was lying there _frozen_, unable to help herself. How could he let her die either?

Dumbledore knew what he was doing.

Trelawney didn't.

"To protect the innocent." Harry muttered again, horrified at the choice he was making, watching Dumbledore step between the curses and into the bead of white light connecting them. Dumbledore's blue eyes locked with Harry's in that last second, and Harry felt something wash through him like warm butterbeer.

The white light exploded, like the flash of a camera, and the dome of golden phoenix song was obliterated from around them.

The green death curse surrounded Dumbledore's body for a moment, and Dumbledore's always sparkling eyes went wide and unseeing.

The warping spell also hit Dumbledore, but as it was not intended to be used directly on a person, the spell hit him, and went rebounding off his skin back up the green stream towards Voldemort. Towards the place that Harry had been trying to warp the killing curse.

Both Dumbledore, and then Voldemort were blasted backward in tandem from the warping spell, and Voldemort hit the wall behind him with a loud thud. A few sounds of bones cracking, and Voldemort's eyes widened in pain. He immediately understood there would be no more battle here for him. It was obvious that both of his legs were broken. Possibly other bones were broken, but Harry could only see the unnatural angle of the Dark Lord's legs.

It didn't matter, sinceVoldemorthad accomplished one of his many goals now.

Dumbledore, the only man he'd ever truly feared, was dead.

He reached into his robe pocket, and muttered something to himself. The portkey activated, and he disappeared in a swirl of black, his red eyes locked triumphantly on Harry's.

Dumbledore's body on the other hand, floated as though atop an invisible cloud. He wafted side to side like a feather. Falling gently until his body came to rest softly against the edge of the fallen and smashed mirror that had once blocked the supposedly collapsed secret entrance into the hall. Harry couldn't help but suppress a sob of horror.

_What had he done?!_

The Death-Eaters had seen their Dark Lord's disappearance, and his act was taken as an order of retreat. Only twelve Death-Eaters were currently strong and coherent enough to reach for their portkeys and mutter the activation, five of which were already wearing antiapparition chains. The Aurors in charge of them hardly noticed their escape.

The rest of the Death-Eaters were forced to stay, doomed to wait another month or so while their lord recuperated, and thought up another way to break them from prison. Harry knew it would happen. It was only a matter of time.

The DA, the teachers, and the Order members present stared at the body of their fallen leader. Harry brokenly stumbled toward him, the only person moving now after such a horrifying scene. He sunk to his knees beside his headmaster, and reached over to close the wide staring blue eyes for the last time.

Death was a horrible thing to witness, and Harry had witnessed more death than most. He felt some unseen locked door inside him fall wide open, and the uncontrolled pure emotional power of his grief blasted outwards, making the four remaining crystal chandeliers explode above him.

People all over the hall shrieked and scattered, as shards of crystal rained down on them. A few unconscious people and chained portkey-less Death-Eaters got the brunt of it, but no one was seriously hurt from the scattered glass.

Harry lifted his head to see the settling crowd all staring at him in alarm and surprise. His eyes were swimming with tears and his sight was shuttered at the edges with encroaching unconsciousness. The hall grew completely silent at the spectacle and Harry scanned the crowd weakly to address them. He was dizzy, and knew he wouldn't stay conscious much longer. He had to tell them all what it was like. What sort of pain they would be feeling for the rest of their lives as a result of witnessing this death.

"Think of this moment when you see the Thestrals." He said.

And as he collapsed across the unmoving body of his mentor, the darkness taking over, he knew they would.


	38. The Pack's Escape

A/N: After the many quite devastated reviews I've received for that last chapter, I feel that some explanations are in order. 

Yes. I did indeed kill off Dumbledore.

And I'm very very sorry.

Writing the sequel to this story, however, I've come to the very unfortunate conclusion that I _have_ done the right thing, and I hope Harry will realise that he's done the right thing too. As much as Harry has come to see that Dumbledore is _not_ infallible, he still relies on him too much as a life guide and mentor. (I found myself trying to get Harry to go and tell Dumbledore about something he was having trouble with in the sequel, then I realised he was dead, and it wasn't possible.) My first reason for killing him off, (sniff) is that it's definitely time for that reliance to stop. Second, the wizarding world was never _truly _in danger as long as Dumbledore was somewhere nearby. Hasn't JK already told us that about only once or twice a book? It's like she's a posting a big target on his face for these last books. As far as I'm concerned, it's going to happen, and we have to brace ourselves. When? I haven't a clue. I only hope that JK cries as much as I did while writing the scene.

Dumbledore's a great man, and he deserves a great death, so I gave him one.

By the way everyone. Brace yourself, Dumbledore isn't alone. (everyone's now saying 'gasp! How could you!?')

By the way, Elmire, ce n'est pas un problème si vous preferez reviser tout en francais. Ce n'est pas ma premiere langue, mais je peut te comprendre assez bien. Je suis Ontarienne, et j'etais dans des classes de français depuis le jardinerie, alors ce n'est pas _totalement_ difficile pour moi. Si vous êtes serieuse avec votre offre de traduire, vous êtes bienvenue a l'essayer. Je n'ai pas assez confiance avec le français pour le faire moi-mème. Merci bien!

For those of you who didn't understand, she's offered to translate my story into French. YAY!

Fawkes Disclaimer: No one can _own_ a phoenix! The best you can hope for is to be its friend.

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**Chapter Thirty-Eight – **

**The Pack's Escape**

Harry didn't wish to rouse himself.

He knew subconsciously that on the other side of that great barrier known as 'awake', he would encounter things that he did not expect and things that he did not like.

The nightmares were sometimes more pleasant.

Sirius Black fell through the veil of death, over and over and over again. He was merciless. He would not stop until Harry fully understood.

Death was _not_ the end.

It was not something to be feared or pushed away.

It was acceptable, and it was a part of life. People died every day.

People who understood what they were getting into would be remembered for their bravery even right at the very end. People even had the right to choose their own end, should the situation be dire enough to prove that death by heroics was necessary.

Harry's own _parents_ had done it.

It seemed they were in with a good crowd.

Sirius Black's wasted face smiled sadly at his godson as he flew through the air and disappeared through the black veil.

_It's all right Harry._ He whispered as he flew backwards.

_Wake up._

Harry blinked tears out of his eyes, and lifted his hand to wipe them away. The world before him was blurred, and he thought for a moment that he might prefer to leave it that way.

"Harry?" he heard Hermione's voice, and a sudden scraping of chair feet on a hard wooden floor.

"Harry, mate, you awake?" Ron whispered.

Harry nodded, but didn't speak.

He was listening to someone crying.

"Cor, Harry, you frightened us!" Harry heard Neville's voice to his right.

"Where are my glasses?" Harry asked, feeling around the nightstand. The soft weeping from somewhere nearby was frightening him a bit. He caught one of the wire earpieces, and placed them carefully on his nose.

He looked around him.

He was in the infirmary again. Hermione stood at his bedside, and Ron sat looking despondent and red-eyed in another chair at the end of his bed.

"Seems to me," Harry muttered dryly, staring back up at the ceiling. "That a year at Hogwarts isn't complete without a nice June visit to the hospital wing."

"You're right there." Neville answered him from his own metal cot. "Broken leg." He answered Harry's unspoken question. "Be back to right in a day or two. Pomfrey mended the result of the lashing spell already."

"Stickyfoot's been climbing the walls with worry." Hermione whispered, and pointed to the ceiling, where a small yellow gecko sat gazing at them dolefully.

"What're you doing up there?" Neville asked her. "If you wanted to visit with us, then come on down and pull up a chair. It's always visiting hours here now. Special circumstances and all. There's no need for you to sneak in."

Stickyfoot crawled down the wall between the two windows above Harry and Neville's beds. Harry saw the red sky outside the windows, and realised that no one here had slept at all last night. He'd probably only been unconcsious for the last three hours or so. Three hours since… since Albus Dumbledore had died.

Luna drew herself up to her full human height once she reached the floor, and sighed. "I didn't want to interrupt." She said, and pulled a chair over beside Ron.

Ron looked very pale, and Harry eyed him cautiously.

"Ron?" Harry asked, suddenly feeling terrified. Ron wasn't upset about his best friend being unconscious, and despite his reverence for the headmaster, this wasn't about Dumbledore either. This was about something else. "What's happened?"

Ron gulped.

"It's Charlie." He stuttered. "He's dead." Ron's face was awash with grief, but it looked as if he had already cried about it quite a bit. His face was ruddy and pale. No more tears would fall. Hermione looked horrified, but unsure, as if she felt that there was really little more she could do for him just then, other than what she was already doing.

The world should have come crashing down on them in that secondwhen Ron told them about Charlie. But to everyone's surprise and alarm, it held up. The weeping girl in the next cubicle over seemed to wish that it hadn't. For Ginny Weasley, the world might as well have crumbled.

"Not Charlie." Harry whispered, tears coming to his eyes.

Ron nodded blankly, and Hermione patted him on the shoulder.

How could it be that Charlie, the man who could subdue a dragon, the best Weasley of them all, was _dead_?

On the other hand, how could Dumbledore, the wisest light wizard in over a century be dead either?

Nothing about death made any sense to Harry. Perhaps that was why he now understood it so well. He wasn't immune to the emotion that came with loss, but maybe there were just so few different ways of reacting, that Harry couldn't force himself to go through the whole grieving process all over again.

"Ginny?" He called out.

She sniffed, and her voice called over to him quaveringly. "Just leave me alone."

Ron shuddered. He hated to see his sister in pain.

Harry understood Ron's problem. His heart was heavy enough with his own emotional turmoil. When he heaped hers on top of the pile, it nearly broke. He stood, testing his sore, tense muscles, and walked toward the curtain divider.

Ginny looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes, and a pile of sodden tissues on the floor beside her. Obviously she had come to the medical ward for some space apart from other people. She'd hoped no one would be nearby to prod her, ask inane questions and interfere with her grief, but she wouldn't find solace here. Not this time. Perhaps she had been hoping that someone would give her a sleeping potion to dull the pain. Harry knew from experience that it wasn't in Madam Pomfrey's nature to allow someone to put off an emotional outburst by sleeping through it.

Other than Harry's, Neville's and Ginny's, there were nine partitions erected. That meant that in total, there were at least thirteen students or teachers in the hospital wing.

Harry didn't think he could take much more bad news. He didn't bother asking how many of Dumbledore's Army were now dead. He didn't want to know yet. He felt incredible guilt at the thought, but knew it would be much worse if he knew names. He was technically their commander, if he could use the unfortunate military term. If he knew that some had been killed, then he would also know that he had failed them somehow in their education. That he had once again, led innocent people to their deaths.

"Sabertooth?" he asked Ginny quietly, "Would you like to go for a walk in the forest?"

Ginny saw Harry's sad quivering face look up at him, and knew they were both feeling too much pain to be able to cope just yet. As a jungle cat, she didn't feel grief in quite the same way, and he could see that she longed for the escape. She nodded yes.

Harry turned to the rest of the pack. "What do you say?" he asked them. "Would you like to join us?"

"Can't." said Neville. "Bum leg."

"All right then, I'll stay with you." Luna said breezily. "I doubt I'd be able to keep up with the rest of you kids today anyhow." Harry felt a little odd to be called a 'kid' by someone a year his junior, but he let it slide. Luna was really an all right girl sometimes.

Ron and Hermione nodded, and the four of them slipped secretly past the frazzled-looking madam Pomfrey, who was busy collecting bowls of phoenix tears from a completely inconsolable Fawkes. They used a couple of strong disillusionment charms and snuck out into the quiet halls of the school.

They passed the fourth floor quickly without so much as a glance at the wreckage they were sure to see. Even without looking, Harry could feel the presence of many dead in that hall. He thought it might be difficult to ever go back. Even just to wander through.

They waited behind a tapestry for a stairway to change in their favour, then they slipped past the moving portraits in the great hall, who eyed the four shimmering air spots suspiciously.

They slipped past an oblivious Filch and Mrs. Norris who were guarding the entranceway, and they scurried past the pale shaking form of professor McGonagall who stood sentry just outside the tall front doors.

It was still early enough in the morning that the press were not allowed on the castle grounds, but Harry could see a good number of them at the gates, circling like buzzards, and trying to get past the Auror security forces.

He envied the many young students who had been able to sleep through the night, oblivious to the strife and suffering that had taken place just beyond their dormitory walls.

Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione slid down the hill past Hagrid's hut, and out into the slowly brightening forest.

Greymane, Sabertooth, Sidetrack, and Eyespy trekked through the bramble of the forbidden forest, navigating their way around centaur herds, giant spiders, free range automobiles, and other less threatening creatures of the early morning.

They found a small cave, and once Greymane had poked his nose inside to be sure that it was safe, they crept in to sleep soundly in a comforting huddle of feathers and fur.

* * *

A loud hoot, and an indignant flapping sound woke Greymane that afternoon. He opened his eyes to take in the form of Sabertooth, who had also sat up abruptly at the sound, and who was craning her head around to look at something over behind him. 

"Ron! You bit me!" He heard Hermione's voice exclaim from the cave entrance. He looked over at her to notice that she was clutching at a dark spot on her arm. She pulled her fingers away, and, Greymane could see that it wasn't too serious. Just a few puncture marks left by a set of curious half-awake fox teeth.

Sidetrack had the nerve to grin and yip at her. He flicked his tail haughtily, and ran past, brushing up against her leg tauntingly before he exited the cave.

"Why you little…" she said, turning back into Eyespy, and flapping after him in a huff.

Greymane and Sabertooth followed after them, purring and growling a conversation with each other.

_We have to go back, you know. _Greymane grumbled.

_I know. Don't worry, I'll be okay._

_Are you sure?_

_Yeah. If you want to worry about someone, worry about my mother._

_Oh no. She won't be taking this well at all, will she? It'll be horrible for her!_

_I saw her and my dad this morning. They're a wreck, but we'll all be there to help them through this. They're hurting right now, but life goes on. People change, and people die. We have to accept that. I don't deny that I'll miss Charlie. _Harry saw Sabertooth's eyes moisten, and he licked her on the furry cheek, hoping she would be strong and happy.

_Thank you. _Sabertooth grumbled. _I'm glad you're here. You know just what it's like. You can help me._

Greymane wondered if maybe they shouldn't patent animagus training as a form of psychiatry. Ginny seemed to have it down to an art.

He licked her on the ear once more, just before they all transformed and moved out into the sunshine of Hogwart's grounds.

Harry took one look at the castle, and decided immediately against going back into the school. The front lawn was swarming with reporters and ministry officials. It was simply a case of luck and diversion that they hadn't already been spotted.

"Let's… lets go to Hagrid's." Harry suggested, looking nervous.

The others nodded, and they walked out of sight along the forest edge to the small hut.

Hagrid was in his garden when they arrived. He wasn't doing anything, just sitting and contemplating his newly sprouting pumpkin patch. Harry noticed he was missing a large burnt chunk of grizzled beard, and his hand was wrapped in an unravelling sterile gauze.

"Hey Hagrid." Harry called quietly. "How are you?"

Hagrid started at the sound, but he turned to look at the four of them eagerly. "Hello you lot!" He called. "You've had our Madam Pomfrey in a right state! She's been looking for you all afternoon."

"Sorry." Harry said. "We didn't want to stay there."

"Tha's no excuse." Hagrid said, shaking a bandaged finger at them. "She's got your health to think about. She doesn't need to worry about you any more than she 'as to."

The group blushed, knowing Hagrid was right.

Hagrid, however glanced nervously at the distant buzzards around the front gates. "Why don't you come inside. I'll make you a cuppa tea."

They nodded, and followed the giant into his cabin.

"Where's Grawp?" Harry asked.

"Oh," Hagrid said, sounding proud and happy. "He's in the school dungeons bein' patched up, and havin' an interview. He doesn't fit into the infirmary, so they had to do it there. He told me I should come and see to you four." He leaned over to whisper. "Neville told me where you'd gone. I figured I'd wait for yeh."

"Grawp? An interview? Really?" Hermioine asked, enthralled at the idea that a real giant was getting respect of a sort from wizards. "So they're giving him the proper credit?"

"Yeh. Our McGonagall says what he did for you was enough to earn him an award. First giant to ever be given a wizarding award!"

"What he did for you?" Ron asked. "I didn't see it. What happened?"

Hermione chuckled. "Oh, I was getting ganged up on by four of them at once, and Grawp came over, letting himself get impaled by a knife in the leg, and he just picked up all four from in front of me, and handed them over to the Aurors."

"Did he?" Ron asked looking amazed. "That nicely?"

"Well," She amended. "He might have crushed them a little while he was doing it… Totally by accident of course. He's just stronger than he knows."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Of course."

An awkward silence seemed to fall over the cabin while Hagrid turned to put the kettle over the fire. Harry knew what everyone else wanted to ask. He might as well be the one.

"Hagrid…" He began.

"Hmm?" Hagrid asked absently.

"We know about Dumbledore, and Charlie…" He saw Ron and Ginny's faces fall at the mention of their brother, but it couldn't be helped. "Who else?" he asked in a whisper, dreading the answer.

Hagrid turned to face them sadly. "Acutana Vector."

"_Professor_ Vector?" Harry asked, feeling horrified. He remembered what it was like to be in her class. How she was with the DA. No one that enthusiastic about life deserved a death that was full of fear. It was senseless and cruel. Unfounded guilt washed over him.

Hagrid nodded. "And the Order lost Jim Sandborne. He was new, and you didn't know him."

"Any students?" Harry asked harshly.

Hagrid hesitated.

"Who?" Harry asked, torturing himself with the thought of anyone dying so young.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley."

Harry closed his eyes letting the guilt flow from almost every pore. "Who else?"

"Sarah Kettleburn."

"The first-year? What was she doing there?" Harry asked, alarmed.

"Nobody can figure that out. Best we know is she woke up when the older students went out, and thought she'd follow them." Hagrid snuffled noisily, and turned his back to them, pretending to refill the kettle.

"I'll have to talk to Mark. He's got to be devastated." Harry put his hands over his eyes, and took three deep breaths. He'd led a twelve-year-old to her death.

"Anyone else?" He asked again, wishing Hagrid would just tell him.

Hagrid handed out cups of tea."No one else, except one Auror that I can't remember his name. There were a lot of people injured though, and quite a few are in St. Mungos. I don't want to alarm you, but there might'a been a few more after."

The four students didn't know what to say. Harry had gone far past the ability to cry. He just stared at a torn piece of carpet, and wished his hardest for a normal everyday life. Why did he have to be the boy-who-lived? Why did he have to be such a big part of this war? Why couldn't he just be a normal sixteen year-old boy? He loved being a wizard, but he would give it all up in a second to just have everyone safe. He just didn't see any other way of winning than fighting for it, and to do that, he needed help.

"To be honest, I was pretty impressed with the way you students fought. If you hadn't all been there, then I don't know what would have happened." Hagrid said, not realizing that he was in essence, answering all of Harry's questions. "It could have been plenty worse than it was. I saw a whole bunch of you fighting back to back. Was that on purpose?" Hagrid asked.

"That was my idea." Ron said. "I made up a game called 'evasion', and I thought it might help some of the people in the DA with their movement and body control."

"It wos a powerful good strategy." Hagrid told him nodding. "You'll have to show that one to Tonks."

"Thank you, I will."

They drank their tea in silence.

"C'mon." Hagrid said, after awhile, standing up, and taking their half-empty tea cups over to the sink. He looked out the window, checking the gates."The press folk have gone away from the lawn. Let's go up to the castle, and put Madam Pomfrey out of her misery."

* * *

"Remus!" Harry called, as he entered the infirmary, and noticed that one of the partitions had been drawn back to reveal the werewolf. "I didn't know you were here! I thought only students and teachers were in the infirmary! Were you injured?" He did a quick visual scan, and couldn't see any missing appendages. 

Remus, who was sitting at the edge of one of the wrought iron beds next to a crooning Fawkes, smiled at Harry. "Not badly, which is why I was allowed to stay here. I only had a broken rib. Tonks was sent off to St. Mungos."

"Was she? Again?" Harry asked, not sure whether to laugh or cry. "What happened to her this time?!"

"She tripped over someone." He said wryly. "Hit her head, and was knocked out. It didn't help that she was also struck with a stray curse. She's being monitored for her head, and having a few bones in one leg regrown as we speak."

Harry winced. He'd had to regrow a bunch of bones in his arm before, and it really hurt. "No brain damage then?" he asked, knowing Remus wouldn't have told him so casually if she'd had any.

"No more than usual." He carefully eyed the morose teen. "What about you? I saw your battle from across the hall. It was impressive. Are you all right?"

Harry shook his head. "I've got a sore scar, but that's about it."

Remus shook his head. "I'm not asking about your physical condition."

"I'll be alright." Harry said in a low voice, and Remus understood. Harry would talk when he was good and ready. Besides, he would find it difficult to explain why it was that he did not feel the same sort of crushing guilt for professor Dumbledore's death as he had Sirius'. No one would understand his choice not to go through that sort of pain ever again. Life had been officially labelled too brief.

"Ron! Ginny! Harry! Oh, we were so worried about you! Oh Hermione, you too!" Mrs. Weasley flew over to them, and cried on each of their shoulders, clutching their bodies to her for a few minutes, and making them all cry a little in turn. Mr. Weasley also gave them all very emotional hugs, and didn't, for once, tell his wife to leave them alone or to stop crying. He even had a few tears of his own to shed. The sight was incongruous to Harry, as he'd never really seen Mr. Weasley being completely serious or upset. He'd seen him angry, no doubt about that, but never sad.

While this was happening, Hermione explained more calmly than anyone else could have, where they had all been for the last four hours. Madam Pomfrey, although incredibly confused as to why the students had taken sanctuary in the forbidden forest, insisted on looking Harry over one last time, and was quite peeved that he had left without telling her.

The twins came by, and brought the newest edition of the daily prophet. The front page was, by far, the most honest of all of the articles Harry had ever seen written. There was more in the article about Dumbledore, Charlie and the five others who had died than there was about Harry for once. In fact Harry could only see his name printed once in the whole article, which was astounding considering the battle scene he'd caused with Voldemort. They were calling him 'Albus Dumbledore's unofficial apprentice'.

It seemed that one of the editors had finally realised what was important in this war after all. Either that, or Fudge had finally decided to withdraw his fingers of influence that the ministry had held over the paper for so long. It probably helped that Angela Downfish was the author, and likely she had it on good authority that he didn't like seeing his name in the paper. He made a mental note to thank her later when he finally met her.

Professor McGonagall came by for a few minutes, explaining everything about what sort of precautions the ministry was now taking with their new prisoners. Apparently they were all going back to the rebuilt and refortified walls of Azkaban, and Harry hoped above all that Voldemort would not find some way of breaking them out again. She also told them how the school was doing, and how horrible she had felt when she'd had to go and explain to the rest of Gryffindor house what had taken place, and that she'd had to quarantine all of the students until tomorrow. She'd left the Fat Lady in charge of keeping them locked in, and the house elves in charge of bringing them meals and other necessities. She couldn't run the risk of anyone walking right into the investigations that were taking place on the fourth floor.

Malfoy had already been caught once sneaking out past the Slytherin guard, and he was docked two hundred points by Snape, of all people, giving Gryffindor an extreme lead for the house cup. Harry was pleased that Snape had docked his house so many points, but had ceased to be surprised about anything the potions master did. He didn't understand the man, and would probably never like him, but he respected him. He'd had a very hard job, and Harry knew _that_ better than anyone. It was possible that Snape was just letting loose, now that he had officially proclaimed his true allegiances.

McGonagall also explained how she had spent half the morning consoling professor Trelawney, who was adamant that she could not stay at Hogwarts any longer. She had been in the infirmary for an hour that morning, but had gone back up to her tower to apparently drown her sorrows in a bottle of sherry for the evening.

Over all, Harry was quite surprised and alarmed that professor McGonagall had dropped the usual prickly schoolmarm attitude, and was speaking to them all as if they were equals. She seemed to have subconsciously separated Harry and his Pack from the rest of Gryffindor, and made them into friends, or at least allies of equal footing. Harry supposed that he appreciated the change. He felt very grown up just then.

"Harry, I wanted to thank you," professor McGonagall pulled him aside, and thanked him solemnly. "for everything you've done this year with the DA, with Professor Trelawney, the Hogsmeade attack, and everything." Harry understood 'everything' to mean yesterday's battle with Voldemort. "I know it's difficult for you to always be a witness, and the focus of everyone's attention, but very few people could have borne it all with as much courage and strength as you have shown." She continued, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Harry blushed a little at the compliment. "Thank you professor."

"I also wanted to let you know that I believe you did the correct thing last night." McGonagall's voice had dropped low, and her hand shook on his shoulder, so she removed it. Harry could only stare at her curiously.

"Albus knew something like this would happen soon. I'm not sure how he knew it, but he did. Perhaps it was just inevitable, since You-Know-Who's return." She shrugged. "He made certain that I knew what his wishes were, and I get the feeling that wherever he is now, whatever he is doing, he is immensely proud of you. I know you had to make a difficult decision yesterday, and very quickly too, I might add. Professor Dumbledore would have been very disappointed in you if you had chosen any other way."

Harry felt a little like crying. He knew Dumbledore had probably known what he did from what Harry had told him of the third prophecy. McGonagall obviously didn't know about it, but since it was over and done with, Harry didn't feel keen on enlightening her. He could barely speak as he leaned forward and envelopedhisprofessor in a vicious embrace.

Finally, Madam Pomfrey had to kick them all out of the infirmary, so that her other patients could get some rest. Harry and his friends said goodbye to the Weasleys and Remus. They went solemnly back to Gryffindor tower, where mourning silence met them and cautious eyes followed them as they moved up to their dormitories where they could be alone.

* * *

The next day, Harry sat again in professor Trelawney's tower room. 

He didn't really want to be here, but he knew that Trelawney would need some closure. Since she had now witnessed _two_ major battles, he thought she might have some new insights on fighting and defense. Frankly, he felt sorry for her. He could only imagine just how badly she was taking her role in Dumbledore's death. She might be blaming herself, and Harry knew he couldn't dissuade her from that point of view, no matter how hard he attempted to comfort her.

"Professor McGonagall tells me you're going to leave the school?" He started the conversation, since she seemed to want to remain silent.

Trelawney nodded weakly. "I tendered my resignation this morning."

"Why?"

She looked at him in surprise, her eyes widening behind her thick glasses. "You think I should stay?"

Harry paused. Even though her classes had been a little better in the months since Christmas, she was still a pretty bad teacher. It was just that since she had been progressing with the DA, he had come to see her as a good _person_. Not that he was about to come visit her every chance he got, but she meant well. He didn't want to have to explain the difference to her. "I want to know why you think you need to leave?"

She remained silent for a moment, standing up, and walking over to her window. In all the time that Harry had been taking her class, the heavy maroon drapes had never been completely pulled to the side. They now stood wide open, and the sunshine streamed into her dusty classroom for what felt like the first time. The sound of a few frolicking young students reached their ears through the open window from the grounds. "Hogwarts is not really safe without Dumbledore here. They will try and attack again, and I can't be in the middle of this war." She said quietly. "I'm not willing to put up my own life for those of others. I'm not a fighter."

Harry nodded. That was the right answer. He understood the fact that some people could and some people couldn't. This was her way of admitting that fighting was sometimes necessary, even if she couldn't do it herself. "Since you're still in danger, you need to make sure you aren't noticeable."

"That's right."

"So where are you going to go, if you're not going to be here?"

"Professor McGonagall said something about blood magic being the strongest sortof protection. Apparently… Professor Dumbledore's sacrifice made it possible for me to have protection if I were to live with someone of his blood."

Harry nodded. "I've had a bit of experience with that one myself. But does Dumbledore have any relatives?"

"I was told he had a younger brother who lives somewhere in the Highlands."

Harry chuckled, remembering the one time that the Headmaster had mentioned his brother to him. "Ah yes, I remember the tale. Aberforth's inappropriate goat charms are legend."

Trelawney furrowed her brow in confusion.

"Sorry, do go on. Have you spoken to Aberforth Dumbledore?"

"He's agreed to take me in for the duration of the war. Minerva has spoken to him on my behalf."

"From what I've heard of Aberforth, he will be completely titillated by your Seeing abilities. He's a bit eccentric, and I'm sure he would be quite pleased to be in the company of a known seer. Don't fake it like you usually do though. Just let it come to you the natural way, and he'll like you just fine." Harry also made a mental note to write to Aberforth, and tell him to report the odd prophecy she might spew out to someone.

Trelawney said nothing, but stared sadly out the open tower window.

"I shouldn't be here." She said, ignoring his comment on her divination skills. "Professor Dumbledore was more important that I am. This war really can't be fought without him. Why did he do what he did?"

"Because no one else saw what he saw." Harry said sadly, knowing she was right when she said that the war would most likely take a turn for the worse now that Dumbledore was gone. That wasn't her fault though. Harry might have gone so far as to say that it was officially _his _fault, except that he knew he didn't want to go back to assigning guilt. Especially since, as far as he was concerned, he had made the only decision which would honour Dumbledore's sacrifice.

Trelawney looked almost as though she wanted to cry. "I should be dead right now."

Harry shook his head at her. "You're here because I chose _you_ to live. Dumbledore knew what he was doing when he sacrificed his life for you. You were innocent. You have no way of changing that outcome. It was not your decision. You're feeling survivor's guilt."

She came back to the desk and sat down, listening intently. Her eyes were wide and white behind her huge glasses.

"The saddest thing about a sudden death," Harry told her, feeling strangely philisophical, "is that we cannot all die at once. When someone goes, they are always leaving someone else behind. No matter how tragic their death, it is the people left behind who suffer the most." He sighed. "I suffered when my Godfather was killed. I've suffered pretty much all my life because my parents were killed. The last thing I want to do right now, is make the people who care for me go through the same thing, but I would be willing to do it for the right cause." He paused to gather his thoughts for a moment.

Harry splayed his hands on the surface of her desk, and looked sincerely at her distraught expression. "I've learned that when someone dies to save you, you owe it to that person's memory to survive their cause. Find a new cause, and fight for it."

Trelawney nodded, looking athim in amazement. He was so incredibly wise beyond his years now. She looked as though she might have been frightened, if she didn't understand wholeheartedly what he had just told her.

"Dumbledore, Sirius, professor Vector, and my parents all died to save the wizarding world and myself from Voldemort. I think that the saddest thing here, is that these people have all died for the same reason. And that will happen over and over again until someone stops him permanently."

He stood from his seat, and Trelawney stood with him. "I'm going to survive this cause for them, deal with it, and one day I'll find a new cause. That's the best way I can repay them for their sacrifice. You can do the same for professor Dumbledore. It's the biggest honour you can give him. Even if your new cause is just to See, and to tell divine knowledge. It can still be something worth fighting for."

He held out his hand for Trelawney to shake. "I wish you good luck and happiness."

Trelawney looked unable to speak. She swallowed hard twice. She reached forward, and shaking his hand, she croaked through the lump in her throat. "Thank you."

Harry walked out of the Divination tower, for what he hoped would be the last time.

* * *

A/N: Hey everyone! July 16th is party time! Isn't that great? 


	39. A Toast

A/N: Don't worry, the story isn't over until they actually arrive at Kings Cross again. No earlier, and no later. My intent with this story was to write as much in JK Rowling's style as possible, and that means following the template she's used and reused every time she writes a new HP book. YAY FOR NUMBER 6! 

Niffler Disclaimer: I can sense gold and other shiny metals from a mile away, and don't worry, this person has none. She's just doing this for fun.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-nine –**

**A Toast**

Despite the dark fog of mourning that seemed to envelop the castle since the attack at the fourth floor, the next week was by far the most relaxing time Harry had ever spent during exams, other than in his second year when they had been cancelled completely.

Professor McGonagall had decided not to cancel them this year, stating that the students needed to have as normal an end to the year as possible. Ron, Harry, Neville and Hermione thought she was right, since the extra work kept their minds nicely occupied.

Ginny and Luna had to disagree as they were on their OWL year and were barely coping properly. Poor Ginny had already missed far too many full night sleeps and meals. Harry had spent some of his free time quizzing Ginny on Defense and Transfiguration, and she was actually quite knowledgeable in both, but the stress of the past few weeks was making her feel incompetent and useless. Most of Harry's time was spent assuring her that she'd do fine.

When Professor Marchbanks arrived, she promised that due to recent additional stresses, they would be grading all of the affected students' OWL and NEWT scores up a full letter grade. That meant that any student who was close to, or had been personally involved with the battle would be undoubtedly receiving better OWL scores than others. Even though the lower grading standard meant it was nearly impossible to receive a failing grade, both Ginny and Luna still ended up studying like mad.

"It's an opportunity for us to achieve all O's on our reports." Luna had insisted. "Besides. If they're grading everything up one letter, then we'll still know when they think we should be failing. Getting an Acceptable will still feel like getting a Poor."

The sixth years were all finding their exams rather easy, and since professor Vector's tragic death, they didn't have one at all in Philosophy of Magic. Everyone in that class was awarded an automatic pass.

Every evening just before sundown, the whole pack would slip out into the forbidden forest, and forget their worries for an hour or two. This was probably the only reason that Ginny was able to make it through exams without a nervous breakdown.

Neville had conjured a little pouch that looked like a collar that he could wear, which Stickyfoot could ride in on their jaunts. She was quite pleased to be able to keep up with the group, and when he presented it to her, she gave Neville a kiss on the cheek for his thoughtfulness. Neville had kissed her hand back gallantly, and had been smiling ever since.

Much to Harry's surprise and brief elation, Ginny had also enthusiastically kissed Harry on the lips when she thanked him for everything they'd done with the DA. Apparently professor Tofty, the OWL tester, had pulled her aside after her OWL exam, and explained that he hadn't seen many students of her calibre in an exam. He said that her Defense exam had been on par only with that of Harry Potter.

Harry knew that Ginny's kiss was simply one of friendship and utter relief at being given such a compliment during a nerve-wracking exam, but he couldn't help hoping that there was something else behind it. He nonetheless laughed it off and told her that he was very proud of her. Although he knew he couldn't take too much credit, since she'd only really been studying so much to get her mind off of her other problems.

The times that people most noticed the gloom around the school, were during mealtimes. The students were especially silent at the end of term feast.

It was the empty-looking professor's table that held people's attention more than anything. It wasn't so odd for a teacher or two to miss a meal if they were dining on their own or were away on business, but it was odd to see so many vacant chairs at the leaving feast.

Two of the professors' seats were abandoned, and the other teachers avoided standing near them for too long.

Before the tall golden chair coveted by Professor Dumbledore, sat a red and gold wreath. It was simple in its design, but the message it cast to everyone was quite powerful and foreboding. On the table by the seat usually occupied by professor Vector sat a single white rose. Professor Trelawney's chair was also empty, but since this wasn't unusual, hardly anyone noticed the absence. Harry assumed that she had gone off to Aberforth's as soon as the last exam had been over with. He assumed that she wouldn't want to hang out here for any longer than necessary.

Minister Fudge and two other ministry officials, who sat over to one side, were obviously honoured guests at the proceedings. They looked very uncomfortable, and flitted their eyes around the teachers table as though they weren't sure that they were supposed to be there.

The banners of the hall were once again clothed black, not seen since the time of Cedric Diggory's death. The students understood that it meant that there would be no house cup awarded again this year. Harry thought he wouldn't care about something so trifling as house points ever again.

The Gryffindor and Hufflepuff houses had each lost students, and once again, Harry Potter was the topic of muttered discussion. The story had been told so many times by everyone that Harry's hero status had risen again, though Harry really couldn't have cared less, and he tried not to let it affect him. As long as his friends and the majority of the DA understood, then he was all right with it.

They were not blaming him for these deaths, nor were they in any way disrespectful of his actions. No one present on the fourth floor that night could deny that Harry had acquitted himself with full valour and could only praise his intentions when he had roused the school to come help. What else could he have done? What would they have done in his position?

None of the Slytherins seemed to be commenting, and Malfoy was apparently missing. His younger housemates from the DA were saying that he was horribly ill.

Harry had usually ducked his head low at meal times, ate quickly, and left. Usually he was followed by Ron and Hermione, but at the leaving feast, he was forced to wait out the speeches. He had been tempted not to go at all, but he somehow felt that he owed it to professor Dumbledore to be there.

Professor McGonagall stood up, and readied herself to make the end of the year speech. She waited for the room to hush, glaring piercingly at two rowdier young students in Ravenclaw.

Once they were quiet, she began. "I know the older students will remember a time much like this when we made a toast to honour Cedric Diggory. To everything that he was as a person; brave, cunning, noble, and intelligent.

"I'd like to also mention his name again now, as we recall that he was to be only the first of many losses this school has taken."

McGonagall gestured to the Hufflepuff table. "Again, we must offer our sincere condolences to the Hufflepuff house. The loss of Cedric hurt you, and now I fear this new incursion will drown you in sorrow. Remember Justin Finch-Fletchley, for he was willing to offer up his life to protect his friends and help save the wizarding world."

She raised her goblet of juice. "To Justin."

"To Justin." The students replied, and they all took a sip.

She turned to her left. "Forgive me, professor Sprout, I did not understand the issues last time." She told her fellow teacher. "I assumed you would feel the same for Cedric as you did for the rest of the students in the school. I assumed that I had the same depth of feeling for him as you did. Now that the loss has also been in my own house, I cannot help but feel guilty that I did not offer more help to you and your house in your time of need. I understand now. Losing a student from your own house is like… like losing your own child. And if there's anything we can do for each other, please do not hesitate to ask." She said, and professor Sprout nodded, making a weepy snuffling sound, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.

McGonagall looked close to tears herself, but she valiantly plodded forward in what was quite obviously, a memorised speech. Harry had the feeling that if it hadn't been pre-written, then she might have already collapsed with grief. "When Sarah Kettleburn came to the fourth floor on Thursday night, she could not have known the danger that awaited her there. I grieve to know that someone so young met so dark an end. She must be remembered. To Sarah." Again, she raised her goblet.

"To Sarah." The school replied, and Harry heard Mark's quiet weeping near the far end of the table.

"I was a prefect when I first met Acutana Vector. She was in first year at the time, and I fear that I never really took the time to get to know her. Even when she returned to teach here ten years ago, I didn't see her as much more than a colleague. She was always kind to me, and always helpful. Although I did not know her well, I will always remember her as a very brave, intelligent and powerful witch. To professor Vector." Harry had the strange feeling that indeed professor McGonagall _hadn't_ known professor Vector all that well. Above all, it would have been her enthusiasm he would have mentioned, although he certainly couldn't deny those other characteristics.

Again, the school emulated her, and sipped their drinks in homage after the toast.

McGonagall looked wistfully to the empty chair beside her.

"I am not normally the professor who gives the end of the year speech, and as such I am emotionally torn by the necessity to have one, and by the loss at which the job has fallen to me.

"Albus Dumbledore was a good teacher. He taught me Transfiguration as a student, and I worshipped the ground he walked on. I did not look to the day I might see him fall, but that is a thought we often ignore when we look at the people we care about."

She paused, and sighed. "Albus Dumbledore died for what he believed in. He died to protect those who could not protect themselves. He was the bravest, warmest, most cunning wise man I have ever known." She looked over at Harry as she said this, and nodded gravely at him.

She raised her goblet. "To protecting the innocent." She said, holding it up high.

"To protecting the innocent." The school replied.

* * *

"Harry, I'd like to talk to you for a moment." McGonagall said, catching Harry just as he was about to leave the Great Hall. 

He nodded, and reluctantly followed her into one of the classrooms nearby. He was surprised to see Minister Fudge following close behind.

Professor Firenze walked out of his classroom just as the three of them walked in, and he and Harry exchanged bows once more. Fudge looked impressed that the centaur didn't immediately pierce him with an arrow, and gave the professor a look of slight contempt.

The forest was misty and dark, but once Firenze had left, Harry could not feel any other presence. He had yet to explain how he seemed to just know sometimes when people were watching him or eavesdropping.

"Mister Potter, I wanted to let you know some of the things that Professor Dumbledore was organising for you before he died." McGonagall began.

Harry gulped.

She put her hand on Harry's shoulder to comfort him. "The minister here has been working steadily for the past six months on advertising for the Auror training program at the ministry."

"We're really very behind in recruitment," the minister explained in a rushed voice. "I had thought that it was safe to cut back on our Auror squads, so for the past four years we haven't taken anyone. This year though… I've come to my senses, except now, no one wants to join up."

Harry nodded at him. He couldn't for the life of him fathom where this was going.

McGonagall explained. "He and Dumbledore had made arrangements for you to train in secret with some of the higher ranking aurors in the profession, if you are still interested."

"Only if you'd like to." Fudge assured him.

Harry was confused.

"Er, don't I have to finish my NEWTs before I can apply for something like that?"

"You have to understand, Harry. Most people do, but right now the auror squads are getting desperate. It's not that we want you to stop going to Hogwarts, far from it. We were trying to sort out some way that you could do them both in tandem."

"What? You mean like next year?"

Fudge smiled at Harry's hopeful tone. "It might be a lot of work, but it would likely pay off if you could graduate from the Auror Academy just one year after you graduate from Hogwarts."

"Er, Minister?"

"Yes?"

"Am I the only student that you're offering this option to?"

"Well, considering all that you've done… I thought you would probably be the only student here who could handle the course."

"You're wrong." Harry said seriously.

"Wha?" Fudge's plastic grin faltered for a moment.

"Everything I've ever done has been as a part of a team. I don't work alone." He explained, and McGonagall's lips quirked up at the edges.

"Well, what do you suggest?" Fudge asked, looking as if he was completely devoid of his own suggestions.

Harry was stunned that Fudge was asking his opinion. "My friends have always been right beside me in every battle, and the only person that ever gets noticed is me. Every time I read the news after a battle, It's always Harry Potter did this. Harry Potter did that. I didn't ever do a thing except back up my friends, and they in turn backed me up. I might have a bit of a knack for attracting trouble, but I can't possibly accept your suggestion today unless Ron and Hermione are offered the same thing."

Fudge smiled. "Well we are desperate for Aurors. If these two are as good as you say, then we'll take your word for it. I'll offer them the same if you insist."

"Good. I'm sure that they would appreciate that."

"I know you said that you wanted to be a detective, but I hope you'll stay with us at least until the end of the war."

Harry tilted his head a bit to the side. He wondered exactly what the Minister meant by that. Was he only offering him a job now because he figured Harry to be the only one capable of defeating Voldemort? or was there some other reason? Maybe something as simple as just needing as many willing bodies as possible?

Fudge didn't notice Harry's confusion. "The terms that Dumbledore and I arranged were that you would go back to your aunt and uncle's house-"

"No not there!" Harry complained, realising only after he said it, how childish it sounded. He winced at his own words.

"This is what Dumbledore and I arranged." Fudge said airily. "He was quite emphatic about the whole thing."

Harry sighed.

"You'll go back to your aunt and uncle's house for a month, then you'll come to stay in London. He said you would have a place?"

Harry nodded, thinking gloomily of Grimmauld Place.

"By that time, you'll be seventeen, and you can go off and get your apparating licence. If you getit right away, then you'll be able to spend eight hours each day in Auror headquartersat the ministry, getting testing first, then orientation and training with various persons until it is time to return to Hogwarts. Then you will continue your training under the supervision of the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and go in to the ministry once a month for more testing and a few specialized field missions."

Harry nodded to show that he had followed the minister's logic.

"If, by any chance, you do not receive the necessary marks in your NEWTs however, I am willing to declare all training forfeit, and you'll have to go and find another job."

McGonagall interrupted. "The ministry is giving you a scholarship, and is putting out quite a bit of money for you to do this, so it is in your best interests to make the grade."

Harry thought for a moment about how difficult it would be to try and place within the top thirty percent as an Auror at the same time as he was graduating from Hogwarts. It would be horrendous, but he would do it. He needed to. "Would Ron and Hermione be getting scholarships too?"

Fudge winced. "I guess they'll have to. We do need new Aurors badly, and ever since the announcement of You-Know-Who's return, it hasn't exactly been the profession of choice for many people. The job is usually more tedious than it will be now, and we've even had a few of our less experienced employees quit because of the stress of You-Know-Who's return."

Harry smiled. "I can imagine people might think it too dangerous. Anyhow, you need to talk to Ron and Hermione before I can give you my answer. I won't say yes unless I know they're to be offered the same."

"All right, I'll be owling your friends presently. What were their names again?"

"Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger."

"Right, well until I know what sort of funds will be available to them, you might want to keep this conversation to yourself. Take some time, and think about your answer. I'll expect your owl in two weeks."

Professor McGonagall clapped her hands once, as if she were finalising the deal. "Good, now that's settled. Minister, I have to ask you a rather delicate question regarding some of my transfiguration students."

Harry had the strange feeling that she was still talking about him, so he remained standing where he was. Fudge eyed him, glaring as if he thought Harry shouldn't be privy to other student problems. When he looked back at McGonagall, she didn't seem to be at all worried about Harry's presence. Fudge gave her a very confused look, and to accommodate him a little, Harry took a couple of steps away and pretended to admire the detail of the bark onone of Professor Firenze's magical aspen trees.

McGonagall ignored Harry's actions completely, and Fudge was relatively assuaged.

"I've had a rather vexing thing happen, and I was wondering if there could be a way to smooth it over without drawing too much attention to it." McGonagall muttered just loud enough for Harry to hear her clearly.

"I'll do my best to help you." Fudge promised. "What has happened?"

"Well it seems a couple of my transfiguration students have gone ahead without authorisation and taught themselves how to become animagi."

Harry went chalk white, and nearly choked. What was she doing, telling the Minister for Magic? Wouldn't they get into trouble?

But Fudge didn't notice Harry's sudden stillness and blatantly interested gaze. If he had, he'd seen it only as incredulity. The Minister was laughing. "I'm impressed! It shouldn't be a problem, I think I can smooth it over, and get them registered as quietly as possible. No one will notice that they haven't gone through proper channels if I have anything to say about it!"

Harry's breath lodged in his throat. Could he do that? His arrangement with Remus could go through if he did. It would certainly be an improvement from before. At least if the Dursleys were mistreating him, or getting too frustrating to be around, he'd have somewhere safe to go.

Fudge was still speaking. "Just how many students have accomplished this feat, did you say? Two?"

"Er, try six."

Fudge's laughter died in his throat, and his eyes widened in alarm. "Six? That many? How is that possible? There's probably that number in England alone!"

"Actually there's twelve." McGonagall corrected him. "Eighteen if you count this newest group."

"Ah yes. That's right. You're a cat animagus aren't you?" Fudge asked.

"A tabby. Yes." McGonagall informed him politely, sounding as if the distinction mattered greatly.

Fudge shook his head in amazement. "Well, if your _six_ students want to come by for their tests, I can probably sort it all out. Just smooth it all over so that no one notices. Might be for the best if they wait for a message from me so I can make a private appointment for them. You just get me a list of their names and I'll take care of it with the utmost discretion."

"Thank you." McGonagall turned to Harry, who had given up all pretenses of not listening in to the conversation. "Well there you are Mister Potter. I'm sorry to go ahead and do this without consulting you, but I feared repercussions if you were to continue your transfiguration without permission."

Harry smiled. "I know. I was going to have to register eventually anyhow. I wanted Remus to be my wizarding guardian, and they'll only let him if I'm certified. Besides, I'm too big to hide it for long, and a lion isn't exactly an animal native to the UK."

"What?" Fudge spluttered, only just picking up on what McGonagall was talking about. "Potter? You're one of the animagi? A lion you say?"

Harry nodded.

"I don't believe it!" Fudge bellowed, tossing up his hands in resignation. "Every time I think I understand what's going on, I'm thrown for another loop!"

Harry ignored his outburst. He turned back to McGonagall. "Really, Ron and Neville are the ones you should apologise to. They aren't going to be happy if people catch wind of their abilities."

Fudge's head jerked up to meet Harry's eyes. "Why?" he asked cautiously.

"Because when they transfigure they become a fox and a pug."

"Like the pub? They're the ones that saved everyone at Christmas?"

When Harry nodded, Fudge burst out laughing. "So if I get this right, three students singlehandedly saved an entire town from annihilation?"

"SIX students singlehandedly saved an entire town from annihilation. There were six of us- and yes it is the same six who are animagi. Ginny and I were only the backup part of that group, since we're too big to be discreet." Harry clarified. "I'm telling you this, because I trust you enough not to go blabbing it about to everyone you know. It's dangerous for my friends if they get dragged into the stories."

Fudge shook his head in defeat. "I give up. I really do." He shrugged. "All right, go ahead. I suppose you're an intelligent enough lad to know what's for the best. I'll not say a word, and I'll have to leave it to you to explain why all the secrecy to the testers."

So Harry told him the somewhat true story of the Hogsmeade Hunt. He left out any mention of the Order of the Phoenix, or details of the battle inside the pub, and played up the roles their animal forms had taken during the fight and subsequent rescue. He only told about how Luna had hidden in her form, and made a passing reference to her missing status after the battle, but he didn't tell him where she had been or what sort of intelligence she had gathered. He just made allusion to the fact that she'd turned up more than a week later in her Gecko form, and had been a little muddled by the whole experience, so she wasn't to be asked about it.

"That's amazing." Fudge breathed when he had finished. He shook his head a bit, and added quickly. "I was going to tell you also about the arrangements Dumbledore and I had in regards toyour underage magic."

Harry winced.

"I know you've been allowed to do defensive magic since your sixteenth birthday, and I wanted you to know that the arrangement stands. Only defensive magic used when under the supervision of an adult wizard or when you are in _immediate _danger, and never to be used in the presence of those muggle relatives of yours. The underage magic registers and Mafalda Hopkirk have mentioned some stretching of these rules. I have overlooked it thus far, but I may be inclined to disregard our arrangement if I see any other misdemeanors."

"Yes, Sir." Harry said solemnly, nodding.

"Minister, if I may," Professor McGonagall interrupted, looking as though she was about to reveal something very important. Harry felt a very ominous trickle run down his spine. "We have a bit of a group which-"

Harry quickly cleared his throat to interrupt her flow. He knew what she was going to tell him, and he knew it was a bad idea. "Which is getting together in our common room to pay tribute to Professor Dumbledore just in a few minutes." he quickly finished for her. "Mostly just Gryffindor students, you know, his own house and all. Professor McGonagall promised to give a little speech. Not that it isn't fascinating stuff I've just told you, but we should be going, or we'll be late. People are counting on us to be there."

Fudge didn't seem to notice that Harry was babbling, but McGonagall did. She stared at Harry for a second, catching his meaning but not understanding it completely. "Er… Yes, of course. Must be on our way. Wouldn't want to disappoint my students now would I?"

"Not at all!" Fudge waved her off jovially. "Dumbledore always was very attentive to his students. It's only fitting that you should do the same. Off you go then!"

Harry let out a breath of relief as they escaped out the classroom door and down the hall. Fudge went the other direction.

"Do you not want the Minister to know about the Order?" McGonagall asked him in a whisper. "Is that why you stopped me?"

Harry's eyes darted behind him to make sure they were not being followed.

"I think even though we know that Fudge is a more trustworthy now, he would still not be right for membership in the Order."

McGonagall looked confused. "But having the minister involved could be quite beneficial to us. His ties to different ministry departments-"

"He's still too pompous." Harry interrupted. "He would end up trying to take over as leader, and I don't think Professor Dumbledore would want someone like that taking his place. Hopefully he won't be in the job for very long, and we can take better advantage of the next person in his place, but I don't want him pushing his way into everything."

"Well I'll be." McGonagall said, sounding amazed at Harry's insight. She shook her head a little. "Forgive my total bewilderment, but I'm afraid you look too much like your father."

"Pardon?" Harry said, stopping dead in the middle of the hall.

McGonagall smiled. "You look so much like your father, but the brain up there," she said, tapping her own temple, "that belongs to your mother, and it sometimes throws me for a bit of a loop."

Harry began walking again, smiling broadly at his professor. As far as he was concerned, no one could have given him a bigger compliment.

* * *

A/N: By the way, I promise not to make Harry into an all knowing all seeing perfect person. I figure that this is his new way of reacting to a death. For awhile he becomes a sort of pariah of knowledge and wisdom, then once he's had a chance to absorb it, he becomes his old self again. (There's another reason that I've done this, but you won't find out why until the sequel. Sorry!) 


	40. Going Back to Privet Drive

A/N: I'm still here! Don't worry, I haven't disappeared. For those of you who like to hear good excuses; I had to finish making a cello before the new year. For those of you who don't care, you probably don't read any of the author's notes anyhow, and I'm wasting my breath. (By the way, Neville's chosen instrument was definitely an homage to my profession.)

This is the last chapter of this story, but stay tuned for a bit of a teaser to the sequel. When I'm almost finished that one, I'll post a little bit of it as another chapter tothis story, just to get you interested. (and perhaps forewarned?)

Dumbledore Disclaimer: I often like to think I'm perfect, and of course, I sometimes exhude an aura of complete serenity and intelligence, but these characters are actually the property of someone else, so sometimes they take on a mind of their own. I'll tell you next time I have this sort of problem, but I've got to keep _some_ secrets to myself, haven't I? Oh here, would you like a Sherbet Lemon?

* * *

**C****hapter Fourty –**

**Going Back to Privet Drive**

"I really understand what you meant now Harry."

Ron was staring forlornly at the long line of carriages that were going to take everyone and their possessions back to the train station in Hogsmeade.

"Understand what?" Harry asked, depositing his trunk on the ground beside his friend. He had so far been silent to them, per his promise, about the auror training program, but he didn't know how much longer it would be before something slipped out. He'd already told everyone about having to register themselves as animagi because Luna had confronted him. Apparently her pinky-swear charm had kicked in again just after his conversation with Fudge and McGonagall. She'd given him real flack for telling at first, but was quite understanding once she'd heard his reasoning, and Harry suspected that she didn't _really_ mind registering herself.

"I understand about them." Ron answered him, pointing.

The eerie thestrals stood proudly in their harnesses, and many of the students who had been involved with the battle on the fourth floor had stopped, and were eying the black winged horses with fear. For most it was the first time they had ever seen them, Ron and Hermione included.

"They're very magestic." Hermioine whispered to Harry. "But Ron's right. I understand what you meant now. You see these creatures, and they seem almost harmless and beautiful, but they will always remind you of the reason that you _can_ see them."

"Reasons." Harry clarified. "For me it's plural."

Ron shuddered. "I think it is for me too." He whispered.

"Who else did you see die?" Hermione asked, sounding as though she were trying so hard to be polite and understanding, when really she only sounded horrified.

Ron looked as if he were going to be sick. "I think I saw Charlie… I didn't even realise that I had until later." He whispered back. "He was fighting with three of them alongside Mad-Eye. One of them caught him with something… I didn't even know he had died then until after…"

Hermione put her hand lightly on his shoulder, and Harry looked at his shoes. How he'd hoped that Hermione and Ron would never have to see these creatures. It was like a mark of innocence lost forever.

Hermione spoke quietly to Ron. "Harry said, 'think of this moment when you see the thestrals.'" She reminded him. "In this case, It wasn't about remembering the death itself, Ron. It's about remembering that there are quite a few people in this world who choose to leave it honourably, with full understanding of their own mortality. Professor Dumbledore was one of them. Charlie was another."

After a few more minutes of staring at the black winged beasts, the students seemed to wake up from their stupor, and made haste to load all of their belongings onto the back of the carts.

All three of the detectives couldn't bear to leave their pets out in the back with the rest of the luggage, so they squished into the cart carrying two owl cages, and Crookshanks' cat carrier in their hands. No one else would fit inside. Seeing this, and understanding from their expressions that the three really wanted to be alone, Neville, Luna and Ginny all took different carriages.

The animals all seemed to understand their masters' upset. Crookshanks was hissing and spitting loudly, not letting anyone near his carrier. Pig was flitting around his cage looking frantic, and Hedwig wouldn't take her head out from under her wing throughout the entire ride to the Hogsmeade station. Even when Harry held an owl treat out to her, and tapped against the bars of her cage to get her attention, she simply hooted dolefully, and dug her head further under her wing.

It went without saying that the three students understood how strong an attachment they would need to these creatures in the month to come. Their pets would be all they had with them for the next while, other than insubstantial sporadic messages they would be getting from each other. Ron and Hermione didn't even know about the Auror training program yet, so they both assumed that it could be as long as two whole months before they saw each other again, although that length seemed unlikely, based on past summers. Before leaving the carriage, all three of them linked hands, and squeezed lightly. It was an awkward sort of private séance, but pleasant, nonetheless.

Once they had finally boarded the Hogwarts Express, and loaded their trunks up in the top compartments, they let the animals out again, and a bit of tension was released by making fun of Crookshanks' squashed nose.

"He looks like he's a nose amputee." Ron commented, and Hermione scowled at him, hugging her cat closer to her chest.

"How could you say such a thing! He's adorable!"

Harry snorted. "I don't know why he hasn't got more of a nose. By the way he talks to Ginny and I you'd think he always had it stuck snobbishly into the air."

The door to their compartment suddenly opened, and Mark Evans stood sullenly in the opening. "Hello Harry." He said.

"Mark!" Harry quickly stuffed his wand back in his robes. He had thought that he would finally be seeing Malfoy in the door, but his nemesis had been strangely absent for the last two weeks. "How have you been?" he asked innocently, hoping the comment wouldn't set him thinking about his friend Sarah.

Mark shrugged. "Not bad. I wanted to talk to you."

"Really? What about?"

"Well, er… I wanted to talk about Sarah."

_So much for keeping his mind off his friend._ Harry nodded, trying to aim for an expression of mature caring.

"She and I went to the battle together." Mark nearly sobbed. "I'm so sorry! It's my fault…"

"Oh, Mark." Harry consoled. "It's not your fault. It couldn't be!"

"You don't understand!" He yelled. "She came and woke me up when the others left, and she wanted to follow them… I didn't stop her. I knew I should have stopped her! I wanted to follow them too, so I did! We were there the whole time..."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged silent looks of horror. Hermione suddenly spoke up. "You can't possibly blame yourself for that! Curiosity is sometimes so strong in a person that it is impossible to stop an impulse like that! Sometimes the need to know is worth the price, but you'll only know the answer to that if you try! She did what she needed to do, and so did you. It wasn't your fault, Mark!"

Mark still looked sullen and upset, but at least he seemed to be considering Hermione's words.

"Er…" Harry interrupted the thoughts. "I'm sorry to hear about Sarah. She was a very nice girl."

They sat in silence again for a few minutes before Harry broke the silence. "Er… Mark?"

Mark raised his head, and looked sadly at Harry.

"I know it's off the topic, but was just wondering if you might know if we… well, if we might be related?"

Mark's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"My mother's maiden name was Evans." Harry clarified. "From the little I've heard, she was one of the daughters of Rose and Daniel Evans. I've heard my aunt mention their names every once in awhile, but I can only assume that they're dead. I've never met them."

Mark's eyes lit up. "I think I know who they were. My grandad had a brother named Daniel. Er… I don't know if he was married to a Rose. My family doesn't talk to me much. They think I'm odd."

Harry smiled. "Well, I guess there's a chance that we _are _related, sort of."

"Er… What would that make us to each other… Cousins? No not quite…" Mark trailed off thoughtfully, his eyes now sparking with hope at the prospect of being related to Harry Potter.

"Second cousins once removed." Hermione clarified for them, sounding quite authoritative.

"Well there you are then. Second cousins once removed." Harry laughed. "You know that family has to stick up for each other ay?"

Mark's eyes twinkled. "And you can do magic this year away from school right?"

Harry nodded, but very carefully added. "Once I'm seventeen I'll be seen as a legal adult and can use magic at my leisure. Until then, I can only use magic to defend, or to practice defense under the watchful eye of another wizard. I've gotten in trouble far too often to really push it, but it can't hurt to let your folks know that they have someone like me watching them. It's not like they _know_ that we can't perform magic."

Mark looked starstruck. "So you could come over every once in awhile? Not to do anything, just make the rest of my family aware that I'm… being taken care of?"

Harry understood that he meant 'threaten'. "It's the least I can do, to make sure that no other Muggle raised wizard has to go through what I went through. Not that all muggles are like this of course." He nodded to Hermione, whose muggle parents had always been most understanding and accepting of Hermione's abilities. Hermione gave a wry smile, but didn't comment.

Mark smirked. "To protect the innocent, ay? I can see this becoming a bit of a motto for you."

"It already has." Harry assured him. "And I'll keep Dudley off your back with a few threats too. He's always been a little too gullible."

"Thanks." Mark said, standing up. He moved towards the door.

"And Mark?" Harry stopped him. "Any time you want to talk, just come and find me." Harry thought that it might be fun to see Mark every once in awhile. At the moment, he was feeling rather brotherly towards him.

Mark suddenly looked as though he might have cried. Harry completely knew how he felt. Mark nodded bravely and pulled open the door.

On the other side stood Luna, Neville and Ginny.

Mark slipped past them out into the hall, and the three moved in to the compartment, hauling what looked like the entire sweet trolley with them.

"It's my treat today!" Luna called out. "My dad has gotten a new sponsor for his magazine, and he sent me my allowance early."

"So you've spent it all on sweets?" asked Hermione. Mr. and Mrs. Granger were dentists, so Hermione sometimes got on Ron and Harry's case for eating too many sweets.

"Of course!" Luna answered, tossing her a chocolate frog. "That's what the quibbler will be telling everyone else to do from now on. The new sponsor is Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, and they're getting a couple of full page adverts printed up in the back."

Ron rolled his eyes. "It figures that Fred and George would be the only ones in our family to be making buckets of money."

Ginny chucked something at Ron, and it hit him on the shoulder. "Oy! The sweet trolley's got their zoology toffees too!" She turned around to show off her whippy lemur's tail. "The sweet trolley witch just told me they're offering ten percent discounts to all redheads, but only when you actually go into the store. She didn't know we were related, she just thought it was something I ought to know. As far as I can tell, it's the best sort of publicity they wouldn't bother to buy."

"Sounds just like something Fred and George would think up." Ron answered, shaking his head.

"Hey Neville!" Harry called, changing the subject. "I've got another cousin! Now I've got one on my dad's side, and one on my mum's side!"

"Really?" he asked. "Who else?"

"What?" Hermioine spluttered. "You two are cousins?"

Harry blushed, realising what he had just given away with his comment. It was high time Hermione knew anyhow. "Well, erm… Sort of…"

Ron sighed. "We might as well tell her, Harry."

"Sorry, I know you wanted to keep it a secret and hold it over her."

Ron waved his hand to let him know that it wasn't important.

Hermione was looking furious. "If you don't tell me what this is all about right now, I'm going to-"

"All right, All right!" Ron spat. "It was all in Ravenclaw's book." He started.

"I knew it!" Luna interrupted, before Ron had said anything else. "Ravenclaw will only let people read the book when they're related to the founders!"

"How did you know?" Harry asked, surprised.

"You mean she's right?!" Hermione shrieked. "How could you keep something like this from me? You're all related to the founders in some way, and you thought it was immaterial?!"

"I don't think she's happy that we've finally told her." Harry muttered to Ron, reminding him what they had talked about when they had first read the book.

Ron shrugged.

"You two…idiots have been keeping secrets from me! What else have you kept from me?"

"Hermione, there are more important things in the world than what gene pool you come from." Harry interrupted her rant. "Muggleborn witches and wizards above all people should understand that. Especially someone with the amount of power that you have."

Hermione stopped simmering abruptly. "Well, I guess so."

"Besides," Ron placated, "There's so little that we know that you don't. I just wanted to have a bit of fun, and feel intelligent compared to you for once."

She narrowed her eyes at him, but Harry could see that she was pleased at Ron's backward compliment.

"Here, we'll even show you the book if you want. Maybe Ravenclaw will give you her permission." Neville said, and raised an eyebrow at Harry.

Harry nodded, and immediately pulled his trunk down from the top shelf. Ravenclaw's book sat almost eerily beside Sirius' chipped two-way mirror, the little lion tamer figurine that Ron had given him for Christmas, his invisibility cloak, and the marauder's map. He eyed each of the items wistfully before he pulled out the book and set it carefully on the seat beside him.

He opened it one page at a time, while the rest of the pack sat and watched the ritual of turning the thousand year-old pages, one by one.

He finally came to the picture of Ravenclaw. She was looking rather bedraggled today, and her eyes were red and puffy. "Are you all right?" Harry asked.

"I shall never be all right again." She sniffed. "I have lost him."

Harry nodded. He knew the one she meant. "We've all lost him." Harry told her. "He was a great man."

"He was, wasn't he?" She said sadly. "And I have so few. I will not likely see another. They are all so far away, and so few."

"Can I ask you something?" Harry nearly whispered.

"I cannot tell you my secrets. That is for Gryffindor to do." She almost looked angry at this.

"I don't want you to tell me your secrets. I was wondering if you might let my friend read your book. She's been so upset that she can't get it open, and she's a bit crazy about history. Yours in particular."

Ravenclaw's eyes widened. "She craves knowledge?"

"She does." Harry grinned. "She's been a long time fan of yours."

"I was almost put into Ravenclaw." Hermione said. "The sorting hat decided in the end that I would do best in Gryffindor, but I still think I would have been very content in your house."

"Are you able to keep the secret?" She asked.

"I will swear it with my life."

"Me too." Said Luna. "I'm even in your house."

"Are you also seeking knowledge?"

"I am."

"Then I will take you both for my own." Ravenclaw said, seemingly coming to a decision. "From this point on, you and your descendants will be equal to those of mine."

"Will we?" Hermione asked, sounding stunned. "What does that mean?"

"I will tell you my secrets. All of the things I know about the Castle Hogwarts are available to you."

Hermione looked accusingly at Ron, and tsked loudly. "And you didn't want me to know."

Ravenclaw sniffed disdainfully. "Helga and Godric were always more inclined to play a trick on others. I find it horribly distasteful. It is not ladylike or gentlemanly."

Hermione's lip quirked up in a half smile, as if she were trying not to laugh.

"Thank you." She told Ravenclaw. "I'll take you up on that offer. May I read your book now?"

"Touch your index finger to my hand." Ravenclaw ordered. Hermione did, and the page glowed blue for a moment. Ravenclaw sighed, and smiled widely as if she had just woken from a very pleasant dream. Luna did the same from over Hermione's shoulder, and it happened again.

"Now you are both of my heart." Ravenclaw promised, placing her hand above her bosom. "And you may read."

"Thank you." Hermione nodded, looking quite pleased. "We'll be back."

Harry flipped forward to Gryffindor's page. He passed over Slytherin's page as quickly as possible. He felt a little strange doing it. It was a painting in a book, for Merlin's sake. But Harry partly held this particular founder responsible for everything Voldemort had ever done. Voldemort was his ancestor after all. Besides that, Slytherin had killed Harry's many times over great grandfather, and had his men display the decapitated head to the man's own helpless children. It made Harry shudder to catch a glimpse of green as he flipped the pages one by one.

"Hello again!" Gryffindor said cheerfully once he had lowered his sword. "I was hoping to see you again. Thought we might be able to plan another coup together."

Harry shook his head. "Not this time. I just wanted to ask you if you know anything about the secret passage on the fourth floor."

The rest of the pack fell silent. They hadn't thought of asking Gryffindor for his opinion. Harry himself had hardly realised that he wanted to ask this until the words were already out of his mouth.

"Certainly! That one is my favourite!"

Harry felt a pang of anger, and thought that if it was his favourite, he should have mentioned it long before now. "Well, I had some friends who found the passage four years ago, and they told me that it was collapsed. Next thing I know, it's wide open, and people are attacking the castle through it!"

"An attack?" Gryffindorlooked quite alarmed at the prospect and automatically gripped his sword a little tighter.

"Yes. Through your passage!"

Gryffindor sighed disconsolately, and tapped his sword against the side of his boot. "It was not my passage."

Harry fell silent.

"That was Salazar's pass."

"Oh."

"I can only tell you about this now, because you seem to already know about the passage. Otherwise I wouldn't have thought twice about keeping it to myself. It was not my secret to tell."

"Tell what?"

"He used it irresponsibly. He often brought women of the evening through it. Into a school! Can you imagine?! So I set it to collapse. I didn't want it to completely collapse because the greenhouses were set just above it. They wouldn't be able to stay standing if the earth below were unstable. Helga would likely have murdered me in my sleep. Instead of a permanent collapse, I set it to appear as if it werefilled with rubble for five years, then the rubble would disappear for another five years and the passage would be clear again. Every five years the pass would change itself, either opening or closing. This meant that students who somehow discovered the passage wouldn't become too forward and expect it to be available to them."

"What purpose would that serve?" Harry asked, feeling rather duped. He hadn't bothered to check the passage himself. Obviously Malfoy had discovered it, and had heard the story about it being open every five years. He'd probably been checking on it ever since. He had known somehow about the tunnel's magical alterations, and Harry wondered angrily where he was getting his information, and why he was giving it to the Death-Eaters if he was so obviously frightened of them.

Gryffindor continued. "The last time Slytherin looked at the passage, it was collapsed. He never bothered to use it again after that. It allowed me to continue to use the pass unimpeded. It was selfish and childish, I know. I should have made it permanent." Gryffindor sighed. "I don't understand how Salazar's heir knew about it. Salazar himself never discovered this particular charm, and I told no one."

Harry's eyes darkened again. "Malfoy must have told him. I don't know how he discovered it, but he must have been using the passage entrance for something."

"Mal-Foi? You mean the Parisienne family?"

"You knew them?"

"I did indeed, unfortunately. They were some of Salazar's most trusted advisors after he left the castle. In my time, Mal-Foi had three sons." He said the name so that it sounded French, and Harry remembered enough from his one term in French at preparatory school to know that it meant 'evil-doer'. It fit the family almost too well.

Ron shuddered at this. "A whole family of them… I can't imagine having to deal with any more. Two is bad enough. Even Malfoy's mother is a real nut-case."

They spent quite a bit of the afternoon on that train ride, talking to Gryffindor. It made Harry a bit upset that he hadn't learned any of these things from Gryffindor before the battle had taken place. He had to remind himself that people didn't keep information to themselves out of spite. He had to expect that there was going to be a certain number of misunderstandings in his life and he couldn't blame them all on himself. Nor could he reasonably set the blame on otherpeople'sshoulders. It was just something that happened, and it could not be avoided. If he was going to blame someone, it was better for it to be Voldemort.

"Thank you for your help." Harry nodded to the page, feeling angrier than he had in a long time.

"It is a knight's duty." Godric saluted them.

When they flipped to her page, Helga Hufflepuff looked just as upset as Rowena Ravenclaw had been, and when Ginny asked her what was wrong, she just kept bawling things like "Poor young Sarah. Didn't have a care in the world!" and "My poor brave Charles! Oh, to lose so many!" They spoke to her for awhile, and by the end of the conversation, Ron and Ginny were convinced that not only had they lost a brother, they had also lost a cousin they didn't even know that they'd had. They were both devastated.

The flutter of wings and a loud hooting rent the air as two official looking owls flew through the open carriage window.

"What…" Ron furrowed his brow as one of the envelopes dropped into his lap. The other fell into Hermione's, and the owls flew awayout the window.

Harry smiled, biting his lip a bit in anticipation, noticing the symbol on the envelope seal. "I know what this is about."

"Who are they from?" Hermione asked, checking the seal. "It's from someone in the ministry, is it?"

"As far as I know, they should be from the minister himself."

"Huh?" Ron asked blankly, pausing halfway through unfolding his letter to stare at Harry. Hermione was wide eyed too as she slowly pulled hers from the envelope.

Ron looked back down at the parchment in his hand. "What do you know? It really is from the minister!"

"Honestly?" Ginny asked, and she and Luna tried to get close enough to read over his shoulder. Neville read over Hermione's shoulder. As their eyes moved progressively further down the page, their expressions changed to stares of disbelief. The minister may have been a pompous know-it-all, but his title still garnered some respect and awe.

"Holy cricket!" Hermione shouted, finishing her letter first, dropping the parchment to the floor, and covering her mouth in surprise. Neville reached down and picked it up to finish reading.

Harry smiled at her, and waited patiently for Ron to finish.

"Is this real?" Ron asked him, holding up the parchment with a stunned look.

"The auror department wants to 'pre-train' you?" Ginny asked, staring at her brother.

Harry grinned. "All three of us." He clarified. "That is, if we accept."

"He asked you this already, and you haven't accepted?" Ron said, looking dazed.

"I wanted to see what you two thought about it first."

"It says here, that no one other than family, professor McGonagall and the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for next year is to know." Neville read. "Does that include us?" he asked with worry in his eyes.

Harry shook his head. "We wouldn't dream of keeping this from you guys. Besides, you're sort of family Neville, and Luna's now considered to be one of Ravenclaw's along with Hermione. I would say that makes her family too, but you guys can't tell anyone else."

"All right." Ginny said, smiling. "Put in a good word for me will you? I can't do it right away, because it says you need to pass your apparition exam, but maybe I could join in my seventh year same as you?"

"You want to be an auror too?" Ron asked, staring at his sister with alarm. "You can't do that! It's dangerous!"

She glared at him. "What, and that makes it all right for you?" she sighed in exasperation, and shrugged. "Besides, I haven't really decided yet, but Auror was on the list."

"I'll put in a good word for you." Harry told her.

"No! Harry, you can't!" Ron nearly screeched.

"Calm down Ron! She's in this war no matter what! It would be better if she knew how to defend herself properly!" Harry yelled back angrily. "Auror or not!"

Ron looked unhappy, but seeing that he was outnumbered, he shrunk back in his seat looking slightly defeated. "I'm sorry Gin. I just want you to be safe. I know you're good at it, but please keep yourself safe."

"It's all right." She told him. "I understand. I want the same for you." She hugged him awkwardly with one arm.

"What about you two?" Hermione asked.

Neville shook his head. "I'm happy just taking care of my plants. As much as I want to know how to defend myself, I'm pretty sure I can learn whatever I need in the DA. I don't really want to be involved in this war any more than I have to be."

Luna was nodding in agreement. "I was thinking about going into historical study for the ministry or maybe working for my dad. Researchers at the quibbler are always very highly regarded, so I'm not really interested in fighting."

"So we'll all three be accepting then?" Hermione asked.

"I will if you will." Ron told her.

"I will if both of you will." Harry answered.

Hermione sighed. "Then I guess it's up to me, isn't it."

Everyone nodded.

After a moment of silence, Hermione nodded. "I'll do it."

The whole cabin erupted with cheers just as the train began to slow down, and they were still congratulating each other while collecting their things, preparingto disembark.

"Harry, mate, I've been meaning to ask… how did you know the password to Dumbledore's office?" Ron gave Harry a quizzical look as they helped each other lug their trunks from the upper compartments.

Harry grinned. "I've made it a matter of personal pride to get myself sent to the headmaster's office at least once a week, if not for any other reason, then just to make sure that I always know his password in case of an emergency. I heard McGonagall say it right after the incident with Ginny and Nagini. It obviously hadn't been changed since, but I didn't expect it to. It was only changed about once every week and a half. Bit of a securityrisk to be so timelyif you ask me."

Hermione stepped out onto the platform behind them. "Don't you think that maybe Professor Dumbledore knew about that? Couldn't he have been sort of secretly giving you the password each time just so that you could get hold of him if you needed to?"

Harry had never thought of it that way before, and it certainly sounded like something Dumbledore would have done. "Well, maybe we were working in tandem."

"I don't see why not." Ron said as they stepped through the barrier. "Maybe it's sort of the same as when you 'accidentally' let us overhear about the Order. You both knew it washappening, but you didn't talk about it, so that you can't be blamed for telling later on."

Harry shrugged, but Hermione put her finger to her lips in warning.

Before them on the platform now stood the expected gaggle of redheads, as well as a number of Order members. Harry was immediately grabbed and greeted enthusiastically by almost everyone. Mrs. Weasley gave him a kiss on the cheek in greeting, and he asked her to come to stay at Grimmauld place in a month, saying that Ron would explain everything. She in turn asked him to come by the burrow that Saturday so they could have a quiet memorial for Charlie.

He hugged Ron and Hermione both tightly, and congratulated them again in a whisper for becoming auror trainees, and reminded them to reply to the minister as soon as they got home.

He hugged Ginny, and thought a little too much about how grateful she had been for his assistance with her Defense OWL. He caught her gaze as they separated and he blushed, thinking that he ought to say something more meaningful in parting. In the end, they just smiled contentedly at each other, and moved away.

He hugged both Luna and Neville, and promised to write them over the summer.

After all of this, he looked cautiously around for the Dursleys, but they didn't seem to be anywhere nearby.

Instead, what caught his eye were two terrified looking muggles standing off to the side, where Mad-Eye Moody had their shirts caught in two tight fists. Harry recognized Mark snickering a little at the predicament his parents seemed to be in.

"Mark! What's going on?" Harry moved forwards to help them out. He wasn't sure if he really wanted to stop Mad-Eye from shaking the stuffing out of them after what he'd heard from Mark, but the situation warranted a little less noise. People were beginning to stare. The white medical eye-patch Moody was sporting was pulling itself away from the side of his face. Strips of what looked like cellotape were flapping on his cheek and a corner of spinning blue eye could be seen from the side. Harry pointed it out. "Moody, your eye patch is falling off, you might want to stick it back down."

Instead of repairing the faulty eye-patch, Mad-Eye spoke to Harry gruffly. "Hello Harry. Thought you should know that your aunt and uncle were somehow not informed about your return today, and these kind folks have just _volunteered_," he said the word fiercely, dragging them a bit closer to his half hidden revolving eye, "to convey you to your house."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "The Dursleys weren't told I was coming?" He realised that Dumbledore must have always taken on the job of telling his family where to be, and at what time. Most other students had at least enough contact with their families to let them know when the train would be arriving. Harry had always just expected them to be there. The thought made him a little sad to think about how much personal attention he'd been given by Dumbledore. How much attention he would likely not be getting anymore. It was a slightly selfish way to look at things, but right now it was all he could think about.

"Come on Harry. It'll be okay. I'll make sure they get you home." Mark reassured him. He looked pointedly at his parents, and Harry understood that he had not told them about the fact that he wasn't allowed to use magic during the holidays. He had probably already threatened them a bit with a hex or something. Mad-Eye nodded at Mark with approval, as if to say that he would do nothing to disprove the notion.

This war really had changed Harry's life, and it would only be getting harder from here on. Harry had the distinct impression that this summer would be especially difficult for him. He was a bit light-headed realising thatmorepeople he cared about could still die at Voldemort's hands…

He waved morosely to the Weasley's who were still trying to figure out a way to get everyone outside and into their cars. Ron and Ginny distractedly waved back. Harry carefully picked up his trunk, with his firebolt broomstick and a nervous-looking Hedwig balanced precariously on top.

Once Harry was led out to the Evans' car, with certain unseen shadowed Order members tracking his every movement, he placed the trunk and broominto the boot, and cautiously reached down to be certain that he still had his wand stuck into the waistband of his jeans.

These days, one could never be _too_ cautious.

* * *

THE END

* * *

A/N: As I mentioned, stay tuned for a brief bit of the sequel. I still haven't given it a finished title, but as soon as I have, I'll post a bit of it here to keep you interested! Thanks to everyone!


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